"What happened?" my mom asked, confused by the sudden turn of events, the perplexedness showing clearly on her face.
"We…we need to go...quickly. Th-They are coming!" he spoke hurriedly all while trying to catch his breath. I was a kid back then but even I knew just from looking that he'd run quite a long distance before storming in here.
"Wait a second, what are you saying? Who is coming?!" my mom asked again, this time a bit more gently.
Dad didn't reply this time, rather stared deep in her eyes for a while before moving forward toward the storage room. A few minutes later he came out with a crowbar in his hands. He held it like a weapon, as if he was prepared to stab or smack anyone who came in his way.
Then he stepped near me with his hurried and heavy steps, the wooden floor creaking everytime.
