Aashna's Last Breath (A shot in the night revised)
She waited. The sweat dripped from her brow, blinding her. She wiped her forehead, smearing the dried blood.
Should I run?
That’s a silly question Aashna. Her inner voice echoed back.
Hiding from the terror lurking beyond the broken barn door, her body trembled. Her brain couldn't register the horrific events that had unfolded only hours before.
“Aashna, you grab me milk?” Her father’s broken English broke her thought. She sat alone in the dim kitchen, staring at the blank pages of her notebook.
“Yes, Papa” she called dutifully.
Closing the door she let her mind wander to her mother and India. They had moved to escape the reminders of the murder.
The heat was unusual, but so was everything else about that day. Aashna walked the long dirt road home daydreaming of one day becoming a star. The visions of red carpets and Hollywood flooded her retinas as she hummed quietly. Looking up she saw the black pile in the road.
Is that a body?
Her feet propelled her forward forcing her closer, the reverberation her footsteps seemed to echo like thunder. She approached the heap.
It is a body! But who? The question was answered in a horrible vision, her mother's hollow eyes staring lifeless at her. She dropped screaming in agony with no one around.
A figure watcher her just beyond the little house, plotting his next kill. The father.
“Why must you be so down? Come let us watch this Rachel cook together” his eyes never left the television set.
Damn Americans. She thought.
She hated their tiny apartment, the tiny American town, and American television.
How can he sit here and watch this rubbish when my mother was murdered not even a year ago? The harsh words entered her brain, she regretted them instantly.
“I’ll be doing my homework, Papa” her words fell on deaf ears.
The door flew open, echoing gun shots tore through the thin walls as he entered, a cruel smile twisting his face. Aashna froze in terror; her father leapt from his seat, throwing her hard against the wooden floor.
She stared at the figure hovering in the door, he leered for a moment, his eyes searching the room. Finally they rested on her father. He aimed.
Shivering Aashna wiped the particles of her father from her once silky black hair. Cradling her face in her sticky arms, she wept.
Why is this happening to me?
Fear rose within her as the sinister laugh came again, this time closer. She held her position, shrinking deeper in to the splintering wall. The barn was one of her favorite places to hide from reality, but this time it became an actual place for her to hide. She ran to this structure behind the run down Victorian building every day, as if planning her escape.
A stick cracked cutting the silence like an axe.
“Found you,” last words she heard before the gunshot.