The family and I were casually dropping by to visit another friendly family during our vacation. I had been dreading this visit because I knew what would inevitably happen; a shoot out.
Sure enough, just as soon as we pull up in our van, they immediately open fire. So we all grabbed our rifles, sidearms and ammo and spread out around the perimeter. I get in through the front door and find one of their girls positioned at a window with her back turned to me. I fired a few rounds from the hip and missed every shot. She laughed and called me a dumbass as she ran for cover.
I ran inside and found a place to hide as I checked my ammo, listening carefully for the enemy. A little girl, no older than three happened to toddle around the corner without seeing me. I was getting ready to shoot her point-blank, until I heard my sister cry out my brother’s name in distress. I jump out into the open to find that the older girl from before had shot my little brother, finding him laying on his back. She stood over his body proudly, like a fat little falcon standing on its prey.
I got up behind her with my revolver in hand and just as she turns around I fired point blank into her collarbone. “Dammit,” she whined, dropping her weapons, “you got me.”
My mother approached us and looked at down at where my brother lay. “Get up, son. It wasn’t that bad.”
He sighed and did as he was told.
Just then, as we were getting ready to regroup, my ears picked up something that had to be from outside, yet it felt like it was right next to me. The others heard it, too.
“We’re on our way,” it said. Radio chatter—the police were inbound! One of the neighbors must have called them!
Suddenly, every phone in the house began to ring. A big smile spread across my face in relief as I realized it was over.
Then I woke up. I can only assume we were superpeople or something, and this kind of thing was what we did for fun.