Prologue: Robbery, Murder and a Dying Man’s Prayer
Marcus’s POV
Prologue: Robbery, Murder and a Dying Man's Prayer
Marcus's POV
Finally home at last, I thought as I turned my red Firebird onto my street going two hundred feet down before arriving at my house the country air fresh and crisp. I talked to my fellow marines at the airport for three hours before leaving. I hope that everyone is still waiting up for me, I think to myself. I see three cars one my brother's the other two, one belonging to my friends and the other to my parents. I got out of the Firebird walk up to my house open the door preparing to say hi, but when I fully open it I see blood on the floor of the living room with my parents lying dead with several bullet holes in each body.
I look at the blood seeing it's still fresh. I checked for a pulse on both of them hoping for a different answer than what my head was telling me, sadly my head was correct. I wasted no time grieving over my parents death.
I went looking for my three friends with the hope that they were alive. I found one of my friends, her name was Jessica, she had one bullet hole in the head, her clothes were torn, I saw her wallet and it was empty of any credit or debit cards, my heart broke, out of the three she was my best friend, I knew her since middle school. Shortly thereafter I found my other two friends Jacob and Josh near the table in the dining room they too were robbed and shot.
Soon after I heard the click of someone reloading a pistol. I cursed to myself that I did not bring my gun with me like I usually did. Too late now, I thought to myself. The click sounded like it came from the next room I silently entered as I saw the thief. I sprinted towards the thief and snapped the killer's neck with ease, then I picked up the gun and saw that the thief was a man in around nineteen, not that it mattered.
I continued out the back door to see if any more were in the back yard, well one more was there dressed in black I raised the gun pulled the trigger, my emotions catching up to me and clouding my usually clear mind and I picked the easiest emotion to express, Anger. I fired the gun emptying it into the last of the murderers. All I could hear was the report of my gun as I pulled the trigger my only thought was the death of the man in front of me. I myself did not take note of the gunshots that hit me, until I saw his gun and the flash of a bullet leaving the barrel and flying through the air.
It snapped me out of my anger, leaving only sadness and sorrow behind. I knew I was a dead man, I cried, I cried for my family and friends that I could have saved if I had of not spent three hours. I cried because I would never be able to have a casual drink with friends at the local bar five miles away. I cried because I would never be able to talk to mom about my life and its troubles. I cried because I would never be able to fish with my dad. Tears of loss flooded my face stinging the bleeding wounds. I calmed down for a second and prayed desperation making itself shown, "God please give me another chance to protect those who need protection. God please let me make up for failing to protect those who I care for. Please God give me another chance." I slumped over and died. Little did I know that God would answer my prayers.