This is all a bad dream. A nightmare. When I open my eyes, everything will come back to normal and I can cuddle close to my parents and cry while they tell me that it was just imaginary.
I wanted to believe that as I listened to the shouts in the living room and gun fires. My only protection was the bed when the bandits attacked the house. Barely escaping alive, I climbed under the bed, very close to the wall, and waited for everything to end. I heard my mother shout "NO!", followed by a noise of a gun firing, a gasp, and a thud of a body hitting the floor.
A tear ran down my cheek as I trembled from fear, cold, and sadness. Oh, why was this happening? The day was my 8th birthday, but this isn't what I'd call a present! My father promised me that it was going to be the best birthday ever, and he even told me he had a nice present planned just for me. Where was it? Was this it?!
"Find the boy, quickly. We can't let him stay alive!" I heard the ruff words and heavy footsteps. They where searching for me, but they couldn't find me. They weren't bright enough to look under the bed. For a moment, I believed that it was all just a dream - in real life, they would've found me easily. But this was real; yet they left, without laying a finger on me. After I was sure I was alone in the house, I climbed from under the bed. As I tried to stand up, my legs gave away and I dropped on my stomach.
Pain. Fear. Sadness.
I crawled out of the bedroom and into the living room, then stopped, truly shaken.
Blood. Dead bodies of my parents. The birthday cake on the floor."
More tears escaped my eyes as I crawled closer to my parents. I took my mother's hand, searching for a pulse. None.
More hope lost.
I crawled to my father, and took his hand, checking for a pulse. None.
No hope left.
I just sat there, in between my two parents, who had been happy and alive just minutes ago. Now they where gone. Suddenly, I saw a knife in my father's stomach. Carefully, I took it out and examined it. It had a golden handle, and something written on the blade - it was hard to read through the blood. I cleaned it with my sleeve, and squinted to read what was written.
"There is always hope. FOR: Matt"
Slowly, I realized that this was a knife for me. My father's present. He was killed by this d*mned knife. I stared at it a little bit longer, and then realized what I had to do.
I gently kissed my mother on the cheek and closed her eyelids, then I kissed my father on the cheek and closed his eyelids. Finally, I smiled sourly but bravely at the knife, and, before I lost my nerve, stabbed myself through the heart.
As I slowly hit the ground, the final tear escaped my eye. As I fell, I screamed out: "Take me, death! I am not afraid of you! Take me, and let me be with my family once more!"