Carefully, she peaked over the edge of the leaves. The rusty red of the car seemed to shimmer as the sunlight reflected off of it.
She smiled to herself, her eyes slowly scanning her surroundings. This was the place. She remembered it so well.
Deciding that there was no one to hide from, she pushed herself through the leaves towards the car.
Taking in the missing windows from the car, she thought back to when she had first found this place. It hadn’t been that long ago. At least, it felt like it had been only yesterday.
Bending through the window frame, she reached out her hand and stroked the cold hard skin of her mother, taking in the wound in the chest that had gotten bigger since she last saw it.
Her smile froze on her face when she heard a twig snap behind her. Her hand slowly reaching towards the gun in her pocket, her mind spiralled in a million different directions.
“Police,” a cold voice said from behind her. She whirled around, but before she could align the gun, she heard a different shot, then fell down on her knees, her gun dropping uselessly to the floor.
Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers, Week of March 14, 2017
Photo prompt provided by Tom Livingston with the blog The ForesterArtist
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