Death Of Pamela’s Parents

She shrugged the hands off and ran back to her dad.

"P-a-ammm-y-," shakily, her dad raised his hand to caress her face.

"Daddddyyyy," she sobbed loudly, sniffing "don't leave me, daddy," She cried.

Her dad tried to talk again and he coughed, spurting out more blood.

"Rrr- Ttt - ddd - R-"

And those were the last words of her dad.

"Dadddd?" She cried.

"Dadddddd!!!" 

She felt hands on her again.

"Leave me alone," She kicked and flailed, "get your f*cking hands off me," She gritted out as she was dragged away from her parents. 

"You bastards!" She screamed and earned a hard slap from the one who seemed to be their boss. 

She looked him in the face, he had a round face and half trimmed full blond facial hair. She knew she would not be forgetting that face anytime soon. 

"Boss?" One of them queried.

And their boss glared, "I ain't here to murder a child. Tie her!" And he turned his glare to her.

She glared at him in rage. She just wants to strangle him. Strangle him so hard she'll get her hands soiled with his very own blood.

Just then, she lunged at him without thinking, scratching blindly with her nails and hitting him in any way she could.

She received another slap when she got disassembled from him and they tied her. 

She recollected the last few minutes. 

Her tear dropped on the pretty rug and almost immediately, the drop of tear disappeared.

And she just couldn't help the comparison. Just like the drop of tear too, her perfect parents were gone, her perfect life was gone.

Her parents were gone, because of some wretched beings. And reason.

And just then she remembered her dad's last words, "RTD?" She muttered. 

Then it hit her, "the case!" She wondered, alarmed. 

The case was inside her room. "I need to get to my room," She decided. 

She looked around, trying to decipher how to escape the scrutiny of the huge guys beside her? 

She watched them set up the whole scene of her parents murder like a fight.

"My parents would never have killed each other, no matter what, they'll stay alive and sort things out for my sake!" Of course, she got a glare from the guy beside her.

She tried to untie the rope on her hand. Luckily, she did so easily.

She started to make calculations of how to flee to her room.

The guy sitting next to her sat on the chair closest to her and looking dumb.

"I need to pee," She pleaded. They all looked at her, suspicious. "I mean it!" She added, desperately.

"Follow her," one of the guys said to another of the guys and while pretending to still have her hands tied, she was jerked up and instructed to walk ahead of him.

She did, and immediately she got into the bathroom, she removed the rope on her hand and started to search in a frenzy for anything that can bring a big guy down fast.

She spotted the mop stick, "nah, no way in hell. That would be a suicide mission," She thought as she continued to look around.

"Young lady, I -" He started outside the door, but she cut him off.

"A minute, please?" She pleaded in her sweetest voice and he grunted.

She continued to look around, then she spotted a hammer. 

Perfect!

What a hammer was doing in the bathroom, she had no idea.

"Maybe dad forgot to take it out," Her chest hurt just remembering her dad.

His death feels like a nightmare.

After spending minutes practicing how to swing the hammer right on the center of the guy's head - she is thankfully taller than him - she finally stepped out.

Putting on her most innocent sweet face, she apologized, "I'm sorry, I took long."

He didn't say anything, just stepped forward and instructed her to follow.

"Opps, your mistake, big boy," gathering all of her strength, Pamela swung the hammer and rammed it directly in the middle of his head.

Silently, he went down. Not entirely silently though, he's big so he went down with a little thump.

Still clutching the hammer in her hands, Pamela was about to run to her room but decided to swap the hammer for his gun.

She took the gun and raced to her room. 

Silently, she slipped in and locked her door.

She brought out the case, wore a strappy purse that she firmly belted to her body. She put the case and her phone in it.

She knew she needed to only take little so that she would be able to move fast.

So she picked a black bag, put her headphones in, a picture of her and her parents, a bottle filled with water, some snacks and a jumpsuit. 

She looked at the door, she knew there was no way she'd run past those men, so she decided to jump down the window.

It was just a two-storey building and she was luckily a good jumper.

"Aye! Stan ain't back?" She heard one of the men downstairs ask.

"Shit!" She knew she had to move fast.

She went to her window, slid the glass window open, she looked down and she suddenly developed a phobia for height.

"No no, not now. I have to do this," She looked down, "for mum and dad." 

She put the gun in her trouser's pocket and climbed out. She climbed down the window sill, to get to the lower window. It would be easy to jump from there.

As she jumped down, she heard doors being banged on.

She started to run. She ran and didn't look back. Then she started to hear gunshots, she increased her pace. 

Just as she was about to climb out of the fence, she heard, "there! Fire!" 

"Shit shit shit" She chanted as she climbed the wall. Luckily, none of the gunshots aimed at her hit her.

She heard sounds of engines firing up; they were coming with their cars. She thought it would be best to not take the road and so she headed for the woods.

So many twigs, they were already lunging for her bag, and tearing her skin, but she trudged on.

She was just running, she just needed to get away from them first.

She got to an open space, no bush, no road, no sign of it being inhabited by humans.

Her breath was ragged and she was so tired. Ahead was the woods again so she decided to take a lil break. She sat in the dry sand, took out her bottle from her bag and gulped it.

"Ahhh," she sighed. 

She brought out her phone after making sure the case was safe.

She stood up, while munching on chips and tried to get a signal - at least she could call Gina or anyone who doesn't want her dead - but nothing. The bars were empty.

Suddenly, she heard a gunshot.

"Fuuuuuuucccckkkk!" She looked down at her arm, "that hurt." She's been hit.

She ran for the bush ahead, dropping her phone and chips.

"No no," She cried but she couldn't go back. They were already hot on her heels.

She kept running and so did her blood.

She ran faster when she saw a sharp bend. She turned the corner and quickly hid behind a thick tree. There, she removed her backpack and tied her bleeding arm with her jumpsuit.

She quickly gurgled the water left in the bottle. She stood up and came face to face with a creepy fellow sporting a creepy smile; he looked mentally sick.

"Uhhh, excuse me?" She made to step by him but he dragged her back.

"Viens ici, jolie dame," He said, showcasing his brown teeth, squeezed skin and bulging eyes.

"Oh no," she thought horribly, "she took Spanish in school. 

"Uhhh. Non, aller," She managed out trying to get out of his grip.

She successfully got out of his grip but he snatched her bag from her back and ran away, laughing.

"Hey! Gimme my bag, you psycho!" She shouted in frustration.

She couldn't stop the tears that streamed out as she crumbled to the rough ground, "I got shot, lost my phone and my chips. Now, my bag. Automatically, the picture of my parents is gone."

She said a short prayer to God that she shouldn't forget their faces, stood up and started running, trying to stop the tears that were blurring her vision.

Her jumpsuit was already soaked when she stopped.

There was nowhere else to go again. Except to jump into the wide and definitely deep vast waters infront of her.

She could hear their heavy footsteps. And gunshots.

She was a good swimmer but with one of her hands injured, she doubts she'll go far.

She stood at the edge, praying not to drown, when a shot hit her on the thigh. 

Then, a plop, and down into the deep water she went.