I knew.  I knew exactly why he had gone to the bedroom.  And immediately I began to think about how I would save mother.

My father came into the living room innocently enough, but I knew better.  It was hidden somewhere.  We had always kept it in case of emergencies.  And now my father was going to use the very gun he'd helped show my mother to use for protection on her.

I sat distraught in the same place It'd forced myself to creep, huddled against the dog tooth indented leg of the couch.  My mind was racing about my mother but selfishly enough, I was more terrified for my own life.  My father sat in his recliner for a moment, fumbling with the barrel.  He appeared much like a nine year old boy who had just gotten a BB gun for Christmas.  He sat for a moment, examining the gun.  He pulled the trigger once, with the safety on of course.  He held it up aimed at a family picture that sat centered above the couch.  I closed my eyes and pictured my beautiful mother.

It truly was innocent.  She wasn't in love with Dr. nor was she even attracted to him.  She had just wanted to give my father what he wanted, a child of his own.  She thought if she could have artificial insemination while she a father were 'trying' to have a baby he would never know.  And for almost ten years she had succeeded.  At nine it all seemed irresponsible and preventable.  But now, at 32, I understood my mother's conscious decisions.  But then father would have never understood, nor would he have believed that my mother really had been faithful.

I had clasped my knees together because they were shaking so vigorously that I was sure my father had heard them.  My throat was so dry I was having difficulties swallowing what little saliva I was producing.  I thought at any moment I would have to pick my heart up and try shoving it back into my chest.

 By this time, father was breathing heavy, like the time he had chased me for a half a block with a watergun when I had asked him to play with me.

In the few seconds I had taken to go back to that happy time I had heard a shot.  I scooted back against the wall and peered around the couch.  I didn't see mother anywhere.

Our living room floor was slanted.  Well, at least I never discovered that until the pool of blood hit my kneecap.