I stayed back

As I walked into the bedroom I was telling my friend...

"This is exactly the spot. I was probably about 8 years old. Grandpa had a classic Smith & Wesson semi-automatic glock. It was from 1965 and he would show it off to all of us kids with a pride in his face. I've watched him wiping it every night before he puts it off inside his night stand. He used to tell us it was loaded and that scared us."

My friend was not paying attention to me. He was staring outside the window. But I still continued.

"It was the summer of 1989. We reached Grandpa's home around noon and I came to know that you'd moved to a new city because your dad had just got a new job. I missed you. But Lena and Jess arrived a while later." I paused, it looked like I caught his attention. He was looking at me.

"It was me, Lena and Jess. We were playing Cops & Robbers and Jess was the cop. I ran into Grandpa's bedroom and saw he was on the bed. His afternoon nap. He was too deep in his sleep that I quietly grabbed the glock and ran into this bedroom. I pointed the gun at Jess but then Lena bumped into me and I lost my balance. The pistol hit the floor hard but thank goodness the safety lock was on. I still can hear mom rushing into the room with Grandpa right behind. Lena and Jess were screaming. That was one summer I would never forget. Every summer I visited Grandpa he would never talk to me. I couldn't see his grim face and eventually we stopped visiting. After Grandpa left us I heard Dad auctioned the glock."

There was a knock at the front door. My friend went to open it. A tall man walked in. He shook his hands with my friend. I heard my friend talk to him.

"This is the house. The owners don't want to come here so they asked me to handle the papers. I have the papers ready. If you want to look around you're welcome to do so. Once the papers are signed, you can move your things. I think this would make a perfect Service Guesthouse." The man walked around the house, looking inside the closets, opening the doors, scraping on the paint. I stood there emotionless, staring at him. He walked into the room where I was standing. He pointed his fingers at me and called out for my friend.

"Is this the room. Is this where... ?"

"Yes." My friend said. "It's a tragedy. About 15 years ago. The house has been locked ever since. She was my best friend. We grew up together, played in this backyard, shared everything. My dad had got a new job and we moved to a new city that summer. If I had been here may be this would have never happened. Nobody was to blame. The pistol's safety lock was not working. It hit her right in the ribs. Between her lungs. She was too young... she was my best friend." 

I felt dizzy. There was stabbing pain in my chest. I looked down. There was blood oozing out of my chest staining my pretty pink shirt. I looked at my friend and said "Can we go home? Can you please take me home now?". But it looked like he couldn't hear me.