Resolution

There was only one rule: don’t open the door.

My breath comes and goes, chaotic, like the tempest raging outside. One crumpled hand forcibly grips the pipe, the other holds the wound in my stomach. I stifle my grunts at the waves of pain while lighting flashes outside.

I can’t hear his footsteps anymore over the sounds of the storm, but I know where he is going. I make my way around the corner and step into the hall and see him reaching up for the pull-cord to the attic.

The latch clicks open, and the stairs unfold. A small scream, joined by a louder one cut-off by coughing, echoes from the attic. His boot touches the first step on the ladder.

I forget my pain as my legs move. My vision dims until I only see him take another step up. A clap of thunder shakes the house as the pipe connects with the back of his head. My eyes follow his body as he lands to the side and twists to lie on his back. Thunder booms again as I move closer and feel something hit my leg with a force that brings me to my knees. I move forward, the pipe moving faster than my thoughts.

A resounding crunch under the weight of the pipe. Over and over, I see the pipe come into my view and leave his face until my eyes are covered and I can no longer see and I fall to the side.

My breath comes and goes, chaotic, like the tempest raging outside. One crumpled hand releases a blood covered pipe, the other holds a familiar, slim hand. I no longer feel the waves of pain. I feel my daughter’s hand on mine, and I smile as my eyes drift shut.