My One Attempted Felony

I didn’t want to kill anyone, but I didn’t want to be killed either. 

Earlier that afternoon, I got off the school bus, walked down our driveway, and climbed up the back steps of our house, opening the door, and noticed that all the lights were off inside.

“Hello!  Mom?  Dad?  Where is everybody?  Gary?”  My voice echoed.

I dropped my book bag on the floor.  The floor creaked.  The air was chilled in the house. Apparently no one had been tending the fire. 

“Hello?”  A silent, darkening house was my answer as I flipped on the kitchen lights, and looked for a note.  There wasn’t one.

Quietly, I walked through the house, looking for signs that might have been left for me, but everything was normal.  Fleeting thoughts of the Rapture passed through my mind, but there were no empty clothing laying rumpled on the ground.

Outside, it was getting dark early.  Winter-time early.  I had just gotten home from school, but already it was dusky out.  I walked outside and called. 

“Dad!”  My shout only echoed off the hills across our pasture.

I looked toward the barn, but there were no lights on.  Only the bwauking of the hens and lowing of the cows.

I went back inside.

“Well”, I thought, “they must be getting home soon.  They would have left a note if they were going to be gone long.”

I fidgeted.  The windows got dark, and I waited.  We had no phone, so I couldn’t call anyone to try and find my family.  So I waited.  An hour passed.  Then another.  I tried to read, but fear and concern kept interrupting my thoughts.  What if something has happened to my parents and brother?  How could I find out.  I am just sitting here, doing nothing, and they might all be in the hospital.  Or dead.

I jumped up, and wandered around the house, turning all the lights on, then sat down to think. 

The quietness was broken by an indistinct sound outside.  The gravel at the end of our driveway crunched.  I jumped up, and ran toward the living room.  I knelt down beside the window that looked out toward the road, and slowly peaked through the curtain.

A car was sitting at the end of our driveway!

“Oh MAN, what do I do?”  I snuck away from the window, and ran toward my Dad’s closet.  I opened the door, and reached through his coats to the back corner until I felt the leather of his padded rifle sheath.  I reached in, and slid out the 22 gauge rifle.  I stood on tiptoe, reaching up, my fingers feeling along the top shelf until I found the box of ammunition.

My hands shook as I fingered the shells into the chamber, and locked the gun.  I hesitated, then slid the safety to the OFF position.

Bending at the wasted, I scurried toward the living room window, and slowly peeked out through the curtain again.  There, still, were the headlights of the car shining through the dark at the end of the driveway.

My breath was coming in gasps.  What do I do next?  I peaked again.  Still there.  Man!  I could feel my heart beating, and the blood rushing in my ears.

Then I heard the gravel crunch again.  Looking out I saw the car slowly turning into our driveway!

“Oh God.  Please help me!”

The car drove around our driveway and out of site of the living room window.

I crawled through the family room, and into the kitchen, lying on the floor under the window, when I heard the car stop right outside the window, just a few feet away.  The muffled sound of the car engine idled. 

I could not look out, because there were no curtains.  The kitchen light was on and it was dark outside so the murderer in the car would see me clearly if I peeked out the window.  They would probably get a shot off before I could aim my gun.  They were probably waiting for me to pop my head into sight to they could blow it off.

My heart was beating so hard.  I can not believe this is happening!  I had read so many adventure stories, but that was not the same as having killers sitting only feet away, and nobody at home.

I took a deep breath, tried to calm my shaking arms, and made my decision.  Fearfully standing up,  in full view of the criminals in the car outside,  I quickly lifted my dad’s 22 rifle to my shoulder, and sighted down the barrel ready to pull the trigger, but hoping I wouldn’t have to.  I didn’t want to kill anyone, but I didn’t want to be killed either. 

Outside the window, the tires of the car spun, throwing gravel as the car accelerated away from our house, and around our big circular driveway.  “Thank you God!” my breath coming in short, sobbing gasps as I ran through the house to watch the killers drive away. 

Peeking again through the living room window, I saw the car drive up the road toward the top of the driveway, and stop again, the gravel crunching, and my heart stopping.  “Oh Lord, they really are going to kill me!  Where are Mom and Dad?  Where is Gary?”

I heard the car door open, and saw the shadow of a man walk around the car from the passenger door, and Gary shouted, “David!  Put that gun down you retard!  I am going to tell Dad you pointed the gun at me!”

My brother has since forgiven me for being willing to shoot first and ask questions later, but I will never forget the relief I felt as I heard my brother threatening to kill me.

Citation: Me