2 A Real Nightmare (2)

Denver, Colorado

July 1947

That day, dusk came faster than usual. As if the ever-faithful sun that spread bright golden light to paint the sky suddenly lost its faith, tired, and hurriedly hide itself behind the dark. And the night felt darker, colder, and quieter than ever.

Our new home in Denver was located at 18th street at the middle of city, near the centre of human traffic that seemed like never take a break. From my room in third floor, the crowd looked like ant colony. They were many, so noisy and made the street lively. My home stood along in a row of similar three-floored houses with similar width.

For some reasons, right after the dark covered sky, city turned into a sudden quiet. I didn't see any crowd. There were no noisy voices. As if no one wanted to come out that night. Then I realised that everyone might have the same feeling as I did. Something was quite unsettling. Not, to be more exact, there were a creepy silence on the air. A silence I never knew before. Silence that after that day I knew as the silence before the death.

And the death came suddenly at one blow. It broke the silence apart with loud and deafening screams.

I jumped from my chair when I heard scream full of horror from one of the neighbouring houses. Ran down the stairs, I went to our living room. Mom and Dad were already there. Karen was hiding in Mom's hug, with a face paler than paper.

Dad gave a signal to come closer, and then he pushed a hand gun toward me. I took it silently gulping some saliva down my throat. Somehow, it felt suffocating. Well, it was my wish to stand by his side on a battle. But never in my dream that the battle would turn out like this. Never, even in my wildest imagination, that a force would attack us.

Everything was just exactly as Karen said before.

"I … I see you …" She stammered after wake up from a nightmare. "Your face was pale and blood were flowing out of your tummy … and … you stopped breathing …"

Gulped another lump of saliva, I came to my sense when another scream was heard. They came closer. Pulled the protector on the hand gun, I readied it in my hand. Gripped it tightly, placing my index finger on its trigger. It didn't matter anymore who was coming to attack us, and I didn't care whether what Karen said really happening or not. I would not sit idly just because somebody said it was my time to die.

"Dad, cover me. I'll come out and distract them," I said.

"No, Key. Stay here."

"I can do it. And you should take care the rest. Trust me!"

"No. You, trust me!" Dad said firmly with more pressure in his voice. His hazel brown irises seemed darker than usual, gazed straight into mine.

"Ok."

I obeyed Dad, even if my ego said no. Dad knew I always want to fight by his side and help him out. And now a chance came right in front of us, yet he told me to stay back. Tsk! It was no different than not letting me to hold a gun!

Dad readied his big gun, filled the bullet holder. Then he put on a sling bag full of bullets for refill. The screaming voices outside sound louder and closer. This time there were siren and shooting voices in the mix. It must has come from the police office on the other side of road. I hold my breath, tried to concentrate on the attacker's footstep. But there was nothing to be heard, even when they were supposed to be very near.

By his long well trained intuition, Dad took some nearly soundless steps toward our front room. He walked behind a sofa, bend down a little and aimed the gun. The next second, barrage of shoots break through glass of front window. A dark figure got shoot—didn't know since when he was standing on the front yard. Red blood splattered on all direction, stained the broken glass. Another barrage was shot, now it was aimed at the door.

An eerie silent enveloped the air above us after the barrage ended. Something was strange, like really strange. The attackers didn't seem scared at all in front of Dad's big gun. Instead of retreating, they seemed to be gathering in a bigger group, as if they were planning to launch a bigger attack. Ah, um, not as if. They were really getting ready. From some clear areas of the stained glass, I could see few figures in dark coats, they were heading this way.

I stole a glance at Dad, only to found his never waver face turned pale, sweat poured down from forehead. Mom was still trying to hide Karen in her arms. No one dare to make any voice when those figures started to move.

Then Dad voice broke the ice. "Key, run!" he said in a very low tone, almost sound like a whisper. His hands were already refilled the bullet.

Before I even able to get what Dad's intention was, another barrage was shot. This time, the front shattered. Lost its shape and fell inside the house. The dark coated figures moved into the house, quickly and soundlessly, almost like wind went through grasses. My mind went blank, while my legs froze in where they stand.

'Is it the end?' asked a little voice somewhere inside of my head. And somehow, I could smelt the death was coming closer. May be Karen was right, I was going to die.

Someone grabbed my hand, and pulled with a strong force to follow her running steps. 'Mom!'

"Wait! Dad is …"

I wanted to stop and called for Dad, asked him to run along. But the scene I witnessed stopped my voice, and my legs started to run again, following Mom's footsteps.