I turn the gun on myself

[Xahmen]

I pulled the trigger and watched as my sister's face peeled away in a flash of fire and bone chips.

In retrospect I should have felt upset, remorseful, or anything other than the grim satisfaction resting in my mind. It felt good to do it; she was last of them, and maybe I would be able to convince the cops I wasn't insane.

My mom was painted on her bedroom ceiling, well part of her anyways. The grey part. She was the only one who went without a fight, and a small part of me actually was sad about that. I wanted her to fight me, tear into me like a jackal and rend my flesh from my bones; I wanted her to resist me so I could feel justified for killing her.
We don't always get what we want.

She just sat there in a stupor between death and life; looking like a trembling statue. She was the only one out of my family that didn't try to kill me in the most violent way possible.

The gunshots had been loud enough to attract attention, why don't I hear the pitter patter of beat cops racing up my steps?
Why is it all I hear is a slow shuffling that seems to be gathering around my front door? Cops don't shuffle, they don't scrap their feet on the ground as they walk.

A thrashing sound brings my notice to the spastic movements my sister's corpse is making on the hardwood kitchen floor. It would seem that the brain has to be destroyed in it's entirety, rather than clipped.

I drop to my left knee and calmly press the tip of the barrel against the indention of her left temple. She stomach down with her palms flat against the oak and the right side of her head bleeding freely.

One eye is focused on me, and in that moment I can't help but notice not her pain or her misery but her hunger. The gun goes off like a thunder clap and her head all but vanishes.

Maybe I'll be sick now.
That tear my father left with his teeth on my cheekbone when he woke me up, it feels caustic, white fire of infection.

The cops aren't going to be coming.
No help is coming.
A seven year old isn't mature enough to handle this, especially when all he has is his father's gun and not enough ammo or knowledge to get him through.

I turn the gun on myself.  

[lidless_i]

Seven year old committing suicide? I'd say tragic, but younger people have done worse. (notice how I didn't say "younger children", I said younger person. Take that, subdividing legal and judicial system!) My vote rests with zombies, always.  

[lucyVUITTON]

Wow.
The title and last sentence wanted me to know more, and it, at the same time, sent a shiver up my spine.
I loved it.
I particularly like teh sentence, "My mom was painted on her bedroom ceiling" because it makes you wonder, "What does he mean?" and keeps you reading.  

[BlackHawkGS]

A seven year old!? Aye caramba, that tis young.

I may not enjoy these themes as much, but I enjoyed the imagery and the altering thoughts going through the main character's head (how he suddenly felt sad for his mother, but not in the way you'd expect; almost made me laugh.)  

[grotesquekreeple]

I really liked the story except if i were you i would use the word 'fragments' in line 1 instead of 'chips' but im not you.

Carry on.  

[KirbyVictorious]

eek eek eek eek eek eek

That's freaking depressing. Like, Pillow Man depressing.

You ever read that?

I'm guessing yes.

It's my drama project. ^^ I'm insane. O.o  

[Spastic waffles]

Seven?

Eh, that just took all the believeability out of the story. It was a good story, but with a seven year old...I just can't believe it. I mean, a seven year old could kill his/her entire family, but I don't see them thinking in the way this kid was. Besides, you used way too big of a vocabulary for a seven year old.  

[D_Marx]

I liked the story, but was sad when the kid was really just a kid.

Good part: "One eye is focused on me, and in that moment I can't help but notice not her pain or her misery but her hunger."

yeahhhhhh. . . zombies, definitely. But the kid would have had to be playing video games for a couple years before being able to deal with zombies. I don't know one seven-year-old kid who would be able to kill his own mother. Unless it was Damien from The Omen, of course