Chapter 1- Mysterious Shooter (prologue)

It was dark in the back alleys tonight. Every Saturday my dad tells me to go fetch water from the wells, and of course after doing this for ten years I've learned every shortcut imaginable. The quickest route is through the alleyways, although they might not be the safest, I only have ten minutes to fetch all of the water for the week. I make around seven trips each way, carrying at least 5-8 medium sized buckets, slipping the handles over my arms to carry them.

"HEY!" I hear a deep voice coming from behind. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING BACK HERE?"

That's when I realized I had been walking for awhile lost in my train of thought.

"Where am I?" I think to myself. But, there is no time to think, the man pulls a gun out of his coat and fires. Pain shoots through my leg. I pass out on the ground without knowing who or what just shot me, yet all I can think about is why the man looked exactly like my brother.

I wake up in a hospital bed, but something seems off. Nobody is here. Not a sound,or person in sight. I try sitting up, but pain shoots up my leg and I jolt back to my original position.

"Don't try and move." Says a sweet, but very deep voice, coming from behind the curtain in front of the door. The curtain shifts to the left and a man with messy hair, and a freshly shaven face walks out from behind the curtain. "Had a nice nap?"

"How long was I asleep for?" I say, with a strain in my voice.

"Sleeping is an understatement." the man says.

I let out a nervous laugh in hopes that it wasn't too long of a "nap".

"Are you sure you want to know?" Says the man. Assuming he is a doctor I agree to know how long.

"7 years."

"Excuse me?" I ask with worry in my voice.

"Why would I lie?"

"I don't want to believe it. Of course I wouldn't, who the hell gets shot and then passes out for seven fucking years. This doesn't happen every other day!" I think to myself

"Holy shit." I said.

"Look on the bright side." said the doctor, "you can drink now!"

"Very funny." I said sarcastically. "Do you know if anything has happened to my family? Anything about how they're doing?"

A long pause happens, and the doctor gets a sad look on his face.

"Well?" I ask with an irritated tone.

"Well…" The doctor says with a pause, "Your father…"

"What about him?!" I ask with immense worry in my voice

"His tumor… It got the best of him."

I knew that my father had a tumor. He never said anything, and I knew that he was going to die in a few years. I didn't want to admit it. Why would my dad have to go through this? Why? What did my dad do to deserve this? My mind gets foggy, and my eyes tear up. I cry. I cried for eight minutes straight. I cried so hard that I threw up. Twice.

After around fifteen minutes of me crying, I just passed out. Not even taking into account that I was having a conversation with the doctor. Right before I pass out, the only thing I can think of is how much that man that shot me looked like my brother. Oh well, not like he came back from the dead.