Alex swallowed hard as he looked over at his father. The man’s leg was streaked with scarlet. The Gun was cold and heavy in his hand. His eyes focused on it, but he was still so shaky that it was hard to really focus on it.<br/><br/>Alex debated if he should do it or not as he looked down at thier hands and the gun. He wanted his father to suffer and to be afraid. Most importantly he wanted to hear his father beg for mercy the way he had done so many times before. He lifted the gun and pointed it at his father. Alex’s soft voice trembles as much his hand as he spoke. “I... I .. hate you...”<br/><br/>Andreas had been right. Alex had never hurt anyone or ever said that to anyone before. A soft breath escaped as some sort of weight was freed from him. He pulled trigger and the wall next to his father sent plaster and dry wall blowing back.<br/><br/>Alex squealed and had nearly dropped the gun after he pulled the trigger. He wasn’t expecting the recoil, even if it wasn’t too bad. Or how loud it was so close. Overall, Alex just wasn’t prepared for after he pulled the trigger.