The Sky Witch - 5. Chapter 5 Boom...

With an audible gulp, I turn around to face an enraged Danny standing behind me with a gun aimed at my head, blocking my only escape.

“Danny, why did you take the gun out of the volt?” I ask carefully, my gaze focusing on his hands holding the gun, shaking. “I came to talk to you bro”

“Don’t you ever call me brother, you dirty faggot!” My eyes snap up to meet his wide with rage, pupil’s a deep red.

Wait red…?

“Get out of my house… now!”

I flinch at the hate and disgust in his voice and manage a step back.

What the fuck!?

“Danny, please. Don’t do this. We’re family.”

He screams out, “bull shit!’

I take a step back, fear seeping through my trembling body.

This can’t be happening… it just can’t be.

He’s all I have!

Fire stings my eyes.

“Danny, please!”

“Get the fuck out of here, faggot.” He whispers every word and they hit home like a hammer blow, tearing my reality asunder. He turns and walks away. I move to the door, peer out left. I can just make out the form in the dark hallway.

A shining object.

Click…click…click…

The sound fills the room. I don’t recognise the noise.

Until I hear the clack-clack of a rifle bolt closing.

Boom!

The shot echoes through the hall, deafening me with singing ears momentarily. I try and get off the floor where I fell after the bullet tore into my shoulder, knowing as if by instinct that I must get out of here before he kills me.

Scrambling to my feet, I keep low and run out of the hallway as fast as I can, pain shooting through my useless left shoulder. Pulling it closer to my body I head for the front door.

Boom!

Another shot explodes; sending cement off the wall, the shrapnel embeds itself deep in my cheek, nearly knocking me off my feet. Blood runs down my cheek and falls to my chest. I sprint for the back door and don’t even reckon the weather will be acrimonious with storm clouds and lightening and the roar of a thousand thunders. The rumble of the storm quickly snaps me back to reality.

I run with renewed vigour ducking left and right behind trees, making a bad target. It’s dark. I don’t want to take chances. Blood runs off my shoulder, shooting arrows of pain into my entire body. My cheek throbs with the cacophony of pain blurring my vision, not in the way tears do, but in a bad way.

Like, I’m about to pass out.

Reaching the back I waste no time hopping over the low gate. standing out of my jump I catch myself on a tree trunk as I stumble suddenly tired seeing a big form in front of me my mind takes a second to place were I am finally after a couple of second witch seem like hours

I must get away. Must hide. Must hide. Back gate .Big form .Must be the Baobab. Yes! The place I go to think and get away from it all.

Stumbling toward this ancient tree of Africa, I lean against the cool stem for support. After a few moments I make my way around the huge trunk to where a small indent has been formed, carved decades a go by a tribe that worshipped the ancient tree; an indent just big enough for a person to sit cross-legged.

Using the little energy I have left, I scramble onto the ledge, cross my legs and lean back with my head resting on the tree, blood trickling down my arm and cheek, pooling onto the ledge. Around my legs.

This is not such a bad place to die.

Here, my favourite place on earth.

A deep rumble grows around me.

I drift into black oblivion…