I didn’t want to go: I wanted to stay at home.I had never flown before, and the whole idea of it was scary.
“If we were meant to fly God would have given us wings,and since he didn’t we should stay home , or drive.” I exclaimed more than once, but my parents would always answer me the same way,
“ You need to see your Aunt once before she dies, and driving from Detroit, Michigan to Pt. Loma, California is out of the question.”
They are regretting that decision right now. I should probably tell you about myself, my name is Drake, and I now live in Omaha, Nebraska. I have been through alot, and I will never be the same.
You know, Federal Prison isn’t as bad as people say it is. Three hot meals a day, and a warm bed. They even gave me a private, high security cell so that “Patriotic” prisoners can’t hurt me.My name is Julius Papertown, and I’m in prison because I got revenge on a country that doesn’t care. A country that sent my wife undercover on a mission she was certain not to make it back from. The worst part is that I didn’t even get a folded flag. Because she was a secret agent not a soldier, she wasn’t eligible for a folded flag. That is why I did what I did, or what I was supposed to do but instead of hijacking a plane, I forgot to put my gun away, getting us into a jam.
I was behind my parents who were in line for the metal detector. I was feeling a little nervous about my first time flying. I looked at the man behind me, and he too looked a little nervous. I asked him “Is this your first time flying?”
“You could say that,” he answered in a nervous tone. I would have asked him what he meant, but I was holding up the line, so I turned around , took a deep breath, and went through the metal detector. I then put my shoes on, grabbed my suitcase, and ran to catch up with my parents who were on their way to the terminal.
Phase one was in motion, get through security. While I was waiting in line, the boy in front of me turned around and asked
“Is this your first time flying?”
“You could say that,” I answered regretting the words as they came out.
Luckily before he could ask me what I meant he was at the metal detector, so he left me alone.When he went through, I took my shoes off and went through.When the metal detector went off, I cursed. I had forgotten to take the M-9 out of my waistband.As the guard came close I made a split second decision, and shot the gaurd.I was working with five other men who were in the other lines. When they saw what happened they quickly eliminated the rest of the guards. Plan B Milton shouted to us. I instantly pulled the .44 Magnum, Spas-12, and M-16 out of my bag. I put the M-16, and Spas-12 on my back. With handguns at the ready, I fired three shots into the air, and yelled “Everybody on the ground now. Don’t freak out and you won’t get hurt. I then put my shoes on and went to the leader, Milton, to apologize. When I reached him, he grabbed me by the collar, pulled me in close, and whispered,”Stupid mistake, I knew you weren’t ready.” And with that he pushed me away.
I was on my way to the terminal with my parents, when I heard a gunshot, then another and another. I was on the ground in an instant pulling my parents down with me.I saw the man I was talking to pull out three guns. I couldn’t tell what they were, we were not close enough, but that was as close as I was willing to get. I looked at my mom, rolled up in a ball, balling her eyes out. She had her bag gripped so tight her fingernails went straight through. I couldn’t look any more, I didn’t want to cry. I turned to my dad, and to my surprise he was on the phone. “Hang up, Hang up,” I whispered as loud as I dare, but it was too late.
Plan B phase two, collect wallets and cellphones. This was not my job, I was to walk around and intimidate.I put my hand guns back into my waistband, and took out the Spas-12. This shotgun looked scary. It was a combat shotgun. Don’t ask me where I got it, because I will never tell.I walked around looking at the people laying on the ground, kicking those who were brave enough to meet my gaze. Then I heard a man whispering, when I looked over in his direction, it was that boys father, the one I was talking to in line. He was on the phone, so I did what Milton taught us, I ran over and kicked him in the ribs as hard as I could. He dropped the phone as he yelped in pain, he sounded like a puppy that got kicked too hard, when he dropped it I stomped on it, hard. It broke under my foot. I then hit him over the head with the butt of my shotgun, knocking him out. I then grabbed him by his arm and pulled him to a supply closet, I then did the same to the boy and the women.
A man came over and kicked my dad in the ribs. I was so close I could hear them break. When he kicked my dad he dropped the phone, and when he did, the man stomped on it, breaking it under his heavy foot. He then hit my dad over the head with the butt of his rifle, knocking him out. After dragging my dad away he did the same to me. When I came to. I was in a closet with my dad and mom. My dad was hunched over with blood pouring out of his head. I knew he was dead. My mom was yelling at the man. I couldn’t hear why though. My ear was seriously bleeding where he had hit me. When he saw I was awake, he turned his attention to me. “What’s your name?” He asked maniacally. :”Drake,” I stammered quitely. “Do you know who your dad was talking to?” He asked me. I was looking at his hunched body. Limp and lifeless. He saw my gaze, and said motioned to my dad with his head, “He hit me, so I blew his brains out, now answer the question.” “U… U… I don’t know.” I stammered again, “Really. maybe this will help you remember.” He yelled very angrily, as he pointed the gun at my mother , and pulled the trigger.
“I don’t know, I don’t know!” I screamed in between sobs, “Please, Please don’t kill me!” I cried. “I’m sorry but you will have to die.” He said as he put the gun to my head. BANG! I was still alive. BANG, BANG, BANG. The shots came from outside. The man opened the door and was instantly tackled by two SWAT members. The other four men lay in bloody heaps on the floor. “ You’re gonna be alright,” the Swat man said,”Who are they?” He asked. “My… My parents,” I stammered. The SWAT man gave me a phone to call a family member. I took the phone and dialed a number. “Hello?” My uncle said through the phone. “Uncle Fester,” I answered, “Our flight has been canceled, can you pick me up?”