Child of DIvorce

Richard walked into the house, tired from all the running around that his daughter had caused him this afternoon. He felt the cool of the A/C surround him as he walked to his favorite chair in the living room. "I doubt I'll even make it to the bedroom, I’m exhausted," he thinks to himself as he sinks deep into the La-z-boy. The leather felt cooler still against his skin, and he felt himself drifting off, slowly. Until he smelled perfume.
         "How could that smell still be here?" he asked himself silently. She was in jail. All this was in the past, or so he had thought. He stood up. He noticed that he had broken out in goose bumps, his hair stood on end. He walked slowly to the window, and looked out. There was his burgundy sedan, right where he had left it. No car was behind it, nor any cars parked along the street. He was at a loss. He walked to his bedroom, where he kept the one major purchase he had made since she had been put away, a .45 revolver.
         He walked past the living room, down the back hall towards the master bedroom. Pictures lined the walls, a happy family shown in one, a smiling baby girl in another, and one of him and Dana. Richard walked on, not wanting to think back on the life he had found to be fake, a part played by Dana. Very well, Richard added. He arrived at the door to his room, which was shut. He tried to remember if he had closed the door or not when he had left, but he could not recall. So with a deep breath he grabbed the door knob and turned.
         When he entered the room, his eyes needed to adjust. The room strobed purple while his eyes grew attune to the darkness. The smell was stronger in here, fresher to nostrils. He took one step, then another towards his bed. then in the corner of his vision he saw movement. He flicked his eyes to the closet, where he saw a cracked door. He slowly approached, inching his way forward. He placed the palm of his hand against the door and pushed. The door creaked with an eerie sound, as the low glow of the alarm clock on the bedside table revealed the closet.
         Sitting there on the floor in the corner of the closet was his cat, Jinx. Of course Jinx was a black cat, with piercing yellow eyes. Richard walked over to the cat, and picked him up. He began to pet him right above the ears, right where he liked it. Richard sighed, and said "You scared the hell outta me, buddy." He walked back into the bedroom and laid on the bed, with Jinx on his chest. Jinx purred and closed his eyes, "Time for a catnap" as if to say. The smell was coming from Jinx alright, it wafted into Richard’s nostrils and burned with an all too familiar aroma. He closed his eyes tighter, and ran his hand through his thick hair. "I am too high strung right now. A man who jumps at his own shadows can't be trusted," he said aloud; a saying he picked up from his mother. He looked down at Jinx and noticed on him a long blonde hair.
         He reached for it, when he heard the bathroom door out in the hall open. He dove to the ground behind the bed, sending Jinx sprawling. He crawled to his dresser, and slowly pulled out the bottom drawer. He heard the familiar jingle of spare ammunition for his revolver, but at the bottom there was no gun. His heart sank.  "She had already been sent to jail for violating the restraining order. Could she really be here?" he thought.  He needed to act, and fast he stood up, forgetting the thought. He dove across the bed, landing with a thud. He rolled off the bed, hitting the ground running. He ran for the door, and swung it open. Standing there in the hall, was Dana. She held his .45 down at her side, and she had a blank look on her face.
         "I didn’t think you would be here, but then I remembered that Jane had soccer practice. So I decided to hang around. Guess I've won the lottery today, I get to kill you, and spare my daughter," while a smirk bloomed on her face. She quickly pointed the gun at Richard's kneecap, not waiting for a reply. One loud bang followed, and Richard felt a lightning bolt of pain in his knee. He screamed as his leg blew out, and he fell backwards. He felt warm blood cascade down his leg, along with feeling his heartbeat in his remainder of a knee.  He looked up at Dana, who was standing there, with the same smirk on her face.
         "Get away from me, you crazy bitch!" he yelled. Dana walked forward as his voice echoed down the hall. Dana quickly silenced him, by kicking him in the side. It hurt, but not as much as his knee, it was on fire. On top of that, his world was now spinning. She picked him up by the collar of the T-shirt he wore, back into the bedroom. She slung him on the bed, not caring where his blood smeared. Dana walked up to him, and looked him in the eyes, and then smiled again. "That's the smile I fell in love with," he thought before she swung and punched him in the jaw. He swore he could hear cuckoo birds; cuckoo, cuckoo.