An excerpt from a story I'm writing and hope to get published. Have a read and let me know what you think.
Aaron McEwan had called his friend Alison several days ago and that afternoon, she had arrived and collected his daughter to take back to Italy while Alison’s cousin, Paige, had taken Aaron’s son back to Ireland.
Aaron now stood in his living room with a glass of whiskey in his hand as he reminisced about the past seven years with his kids. They were seven and five years old and he had sent them away... He had sent them away and had no way of knowing what would ever happen to them. He had told Alison and Paige to tell his children if they ever asked that he hadn’t been able to look after them and leave it at that if they ever wanted to know why they were living on the other side of the world.
He finished his whiskey before he headed upstairs to his room where he had plastered the wall with pictures of his family. There were pictures of all of them; his daughter, his son and his wife. Aaron’s favourite picture was the family portrait they had had taken before his wife had been killed. His daughter had still been a baby, only seven or eight months old but his daughter looked so much like her mother it made him sick to the stomach.
Aaron sighed softly before he looked to a smaller family photo, from his son’s second birthday. He sighed before he took up the frame and pulled the photo out. He went downstairs to the study and found a pair of scissors, cutting himself and the background out of the photo before he put the picture in his wallet. He sighed as his wife, son and daughter’s eyes all gazed blankly back at him.
“I’m so sorry...” He whispered as a gun was pressed to the side of his head.
A/N: If the line spacing is out, let me know and I'll fix it so it's easier to read. Thanks - C_R