I am in the apartment with Peter, as it was Saturday we took the opportunity to rest from the stressed and tired week where he studies and works all 5 days while I work the same amount, I am with my best friend sitting on the couch watching the news while we eat cereal, suddenly a reporter appears on the screen in front of what was my house in Las Vegas, only it no longer looked burned, they probably fixed it, I quickly straighten up without stopping eating.
Today at dawn a woman known as Rebeca blake was found dead in front of her home, apparently she was drunk when a car ran over her .- says the reporter pointing to my mother's body covered with a white sheet .- here I meet Victor Phillips who was a sentimental partner of Mrs. Blake, Mr. Phillips, can you tell me how the terrible accident happened?
Yes, well I was having a few beers at the entrance of the house, when we were already drunk Rebeca mistook a young girl who passed by on the sidewalk with her daughter Brooke she became hysterical and when she crossed the street a car ran over her .- Victor responds which looks more robust and with more gray hair.
I'm very sorry for your loss, sir. - Vicky the reporter answers. - What happened to Rebecca's daughter Brooke?
The idiot stole my money and left .- he says furiously, he takes the microphone away from the reporter looking at the camera .- If you are listening to me, brat I will look for you and I will find you, you are going to pay me to take away what you stole from me
Angrily I grab the control to turn off the television, I put my already empty plate on the coffee table.
I'm very sorry about what happened to your mother .- says Peter putting his plate next to mine, also already empty
It was never my mother Peter .- I turn to see him .- I never loved her, I don't feel anything for her and I don't care if she's dead
I understand you .- he says nodding .- I think I would feel the same if I were in your place
Besides, I don't think Victor will find me - I lie down putting my head on his lap - he doesn't know I'm here ... Can we go out today?
Sure, where would you like to go? .- She asks me running her fingers through my hair.
Mmm ... .- I close my eyes enjoying the sensation in my hair .- How about ... A shooting range? I have always liked guns and I also want to learn to shoot
Sure and then you will become a gangster .- jokes stopping stroking my hair.
Don't overdo it .- I open my eyes smiling .- but first we have to go out to eat, we deserve it after working a lot
Good idea, pizza? .- smiles guessing my answer.
Pizza .- confirming seat.
When lunch time approaches we left the building I had dressed in a purple long-sleeved blouse with denim pants, ankle boots of the same color as well as a leather jacket of a lighter tone, I had chosen to only use a lipstick dark red and mascara while Peter had put on a shirt with a sweatshirt, pants and some adidas tennis shoes, we walked to our favorite pizzeria feeling the fall chill.
In a few weeks it will be Halloween .- I tell my friend .- What would you like to do?
I don't know, don't you think we're big now? .- Asks looking at me with a raised eyebrow.
You know that I have never enjoyed that day .- I sigh feeling bad about that fact, I have never known what it feels like to ask for sweets and less to dress up.
You're right, sorry .- he says putting his arm around my shoulders as we walk .- would you like us to dress up that day and do everything you missed?
Yes .- I smile nodding feeling really happy .- My first Halloween
The first of many .- smiles at me lightly tightening one of my cheekbones.
We arrived at the pizzeria, upon entering we were welcomed by the warmth and delicious aroma of the place, we sat next to the window, being somewhat chilly I rub my hands regretting not buying gloves since I still felt the cold outside, I had to spend a time to feel the warmth in my hands.
When we go out we will go for your gloves .- says Peter as he watches me to which I just nod .- well, what pizza would you like?
Pepperoni, the usual .- smile crossing one leg on top of the other.
I guess and for you to take pepsi .- he says getting up from the chair.
After a settlement with a smile from me, he is going to order our pizza along with the drinks, when he arrives we start talking while we wait for the pizza.
Do your hands feel better? .- He asks while taking a sip of his coke.
Yes a little .- I nod drinking my pepsi .- It's the only thing I hate about the cold, that and the pain in my shoulders
After a couple of minutes in a quiet silence, my friend goes to get our pizza, which we end up enjoying the taste, feeling completely full enough to get up and stay seated for a moment. A couple of minutes later when we could finally stop we left the place to buy my gloves and go to the shooting range.
When I finally had my gloves that I had bought made of black leather, we walked to the place.
How do your hands feel? - Peter asks me seeing that he was not rubbing my hands.
Much better, I no longer feel like I had touched a snowman's butt. - I joke laughing.
Between laughs and jokes, we continue on our way until we reach our destination, fortunately we have a permit to carry weapons, which is required to enter the polygon, Peter had taken it out a few months ago for us although until today I expressed my desire to go. We arrived at the building in a few minutes, which is a single story, gray with double glass doors and the floor is wooden, after paying an instructor guides us to the area where we can shoot.
Before entering we are given headphones to protect our eardrums from the number of shots, it is a large white room with air conditioning and cubicle-type divisions for each person, the instructor a tall thin boy with dark skin, short military-style hair and dark eyes named Robert patiently teaches us how to load pistols and shoot at targets with the silhouette of a person.
Once we learned how to load our gun and shoot each one he was placed in a cubicle, while Robert wanders off to pick up the guns of some people who left, my friend and I shoot towards the targets although I must admit that feeling the gun in My hands when I pull the trigger makes me feel something that I have never felt before, a mixture of adrenaline and real emotion, somewhat addictive happiness. When shooting I see that I am very good at this hitting the target, in a few minutes I finish with all the bullets I leave the gun on the table feeling my heart beat fast at such a feeling, although I must admit that feeling those sensations when using a weapon confuses me as it is made to cause harm.
While I wait for Peter to finish I walk to a vending machine and buy myself a grape juice, I sit on a bench to wait for him, when he finishes we leave the building towards an ice cream parlor that is on the corner of the same sidewalk. Upon entering we asked for a banana split to eat between the two of us.
How did you think of the polygon? .- He asks me eating his ice cream.
Very good .- I smile insecure to tell him what I felt when having the gun in my hands, I would not want him to think badly .- I liked it
I knew you would like it .- he smiles as we continue eating the ice cream we share.
My answer was only a smile, while I enjoy the ice cream I feel bad for not telling him that feeling I had, although I have not told him that a year ago I burned down the house where I lived, that was the main reason why I turned off the television when Victor was on the news since he surely said so and I don't want Peter to believe that I am changing or that there is something wrong with me.