“God, please give me your blessing,” Andy whispered, standing in front of the little white two-story country house in the anxious darkness of the night. The dim lights coming from the windows with the curtains drawn cast a warm gaze onto the lawn in front of him. There was only one thing on Andy's mind. He hadn't seen his daughter Cat for months and only received bad news from the residents of the small country town. His daughter's life was more important than his. There were many ways this could have ended, but none of them looked good. Andy would end it all here and now, on his terms, in his way. Andy's tall leather boots silently crushed the gravel and dirt beneath him as he walked slowly towards the house and up the steps to the worn old porch. For all he could see, there might have been someone sitting on the dark white bench swinging in the shadows, but Andy crawled forward; his eyes focused only on the door. Chips of cracked white paint and the slightly rotten wood of the front door exploded into the house as Andy's boot hit the doorknob, like the crackling sound of a hammer hitting the back end of a bullet in its chamber. . The soft light of the living room hurt Andy's eyes only for a moment. The young man, standing in the living room next to his wife, slowly turned towards Andy as if the air had turned into a thick gel. The young woman in the rocking chair held the baby close to her breast, without making a sound. It was his eyes that reacted to Andy's sudden intrusion, widening in shock. Point and shoot. The bullet from Andy's rifle instantly transformed the young man's face into a bloody mass of flesh and bone. That beautiful face that once preached to the small circle of members of their “church” was now completely destroyed. Blood and gore... the center of the paper... politics with him in their home in Oklahoma. He saw her on sunny graduation day laughing with her other college classmates. So happy. So bright. But that faded young woman before him was now his daughter. Andy's tears wet his nephew's hair as he gently kissed the boy's forehead. Then he turned weakly to kiss his daughter's forehead. “Come back to us…” he whispered breathlessly. Andy let the weight of his body slowly drag him to the ground, his back bathed in the heat of his own blood. Blue and red police lights flashed through the second-floor bedroom window, alternately illuminating the faces of the resting father, the empty daughter, and the baby boy. The fresh air outside, flowing through the bullet holes in the wall, soothed Andy's weakened lungs. The strength left Andy's body as he closed his eyes and prayed softly, “God save us.”