It smells like summer and something sweet. Breathing in the scent, I drop my gym bag to the ground and sit on the curb, trying to ignore the heat under my shorts. My mom is late again. She probably got held up at work because she asked to take up an extra shift. Shielding my eyes from the sun, I watch the entrance of the empty parking lot for her black car. Soccer practice ended at one, it's almost two.

The coach, a thin woman in her 30s, studies me from her air-conditioned car, waiting for my mom to pick me up. She had offered to drive me home but I had refused, remembering my mom's warning to never enter a stranger's car. But Coach Jones isn't a stranger, I have known her for years but my mom wouldn't agree. In my mom's eyes, everyone is a stranger. I push my gym bag between my feet and put my elbows onto my knees, cradling my face in my hands.

After a few minutes, my mom's 1999 black Honda Civic pulls up into the parking lot. Standing up from the curb, I can't help but frown at the gurgling noise that her car makes when it comes to a stop. The noise is one of the things my mom loves about the car. Me, on the other hand, I worry that the car might fall apart at any moment. Waving at my coach, I slip into the car and immediately open the window.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," my mom says. Her voice is soft and her dark eyes are filled with concern. She's wearing all black, the uniform she's required to wear at the café she works at.

"It's cool," I say, clicking my belt into place and dropping my bag at the back.

"You're awesome," my mom sings as we leave the parking lot. "Is it just me or is it too hot for this late in August?" she adds. I nod. Even in my shorts, it feels like I'm boiling under the sun. Earlier this summer my best friend, Emily, had called shotgun, which led to her being allowed to adjust the AC settings. She ended up breaking it. Leaning against my seat, I watch the trees whiz by as we ride past them. We're going in the opposite direction to our apartment building, towards the edge of town. "How was practice?" my mom asks.

"It was good. You're coming to the game, right?" She bites her lip and then finally nods. We begin to slow down and turn toward an area scattered with a few abandoned buildings. Between two of them is a small shop that my mom and I discovered a year back called Pit Stop. My mom had laughed, saying that it was a terrible place to set up a store. I had agreed. The shop is on a dead-end street and has been long forgotten. Unfortunately, our apartment building is closer to Pit Stop than the local Wal-Mart.

"I have to get some milk. You want something?" I grin at her and she rolls her eyes as she mumbles, "Fine, I'll get you an Oh Henry!" My mom disappears into the store and after a few minutes, I run after her. It's quiet in the store except for the hum of the AC. The cold air feels good and I let out a sigh of relief, glad to be out of the heat. Inside it's empty except for an elderly couple who are strolling an aisle. A kid around 6, angrily follows them, stomping his feet all the way.

Grabbing two chocolate bars from the front, I carefully place them on the counter and lean against it. My necklace digs into my skin. "Haven't seen you in a while," the chunky man at the at the front says. Before looking away I give him a smile, not knowing what else to say. When the old couple comes to the counter, I turn to look at the young boy trailing after them. While they pay, I make funny faces at him, trying to make him laugh. At first, he glares at me but then he smirks and looks away.

Hearing the bell above the door make a soft noise, I turn my lazy gaze toward the sound. A weight drops in my stomach. Three masked men charge through the door like wild animals on a rampage. They're all wearing thick, woolly caps over their faces. The taller one of the three roughly points a gleaming black pistol at the clerk. "Don't move!" he yells.

One of them waves his small gun around the store, his body tense and awkward. "Anyone who calls the police will die!" He has a shaky voice and sounds young. Screams echo through the store as the terrified couple falls to the floor with their hands on their heads, pulling the kid down with them. My eyes find my mom's as I drop to the floor. Following everybody, she also falls to the floor. The bag of milk lays abandoned beside her.

It doesn't take long for one of the men to empty the register of its little amount of cash. I keep my eyes trained on my mom. The usual calm and poise that she carries herself with is gone and has been replaced with an anxious expression. Strands of her hair have become loose from her tight bun and are brushing against her wide eyes. She meets my gaze and shakes her head, realizing what I'm thinking of doing. The young man is nervously pointing his gun around the small crowd of mortified people. I can't let them do this.

I gingerly put a shaky hand into the pocket of my shorts. My eyes are fixed on the young one who is now facing the two men grabbing snacks, laughing as they do. "Audrey, no!" my mom yells and warily reaches for me. In a swift movement, she moves toward me and pulls the phone away.

In a heartbeat, the young robber spins around and points his gun deviously at my mom. "What the hell, woman? Are you fucked up? Do you want to die?" My eyes widen and I feel my breath get knocked out of me. My mom squeezes the phone but doesn't make a move to dial. "You call the cops, I'll shoot you." Letting out a shaky breath, I snatch the phone from my mom. I hold it up in surrender before tossing it across the room. A stifled cry comes from where the couple sits. They're gripping onto each other in horror as they watch.

The guy points his weapon at me, making my heart beat more rapidly. I swear to God the guy smiles before he mutters, "Good choice." He turns to face the two guys at the back and I take that moment to close the distance between my mom. Throwing my arms around her, I squeeze my eyes shut.

"It's okay, baby," she whispers into my ear. Her hot breath spreads across my neck. My heart skips a beat when one of the men at the back points his gun at the kid as he walks forward. The kid's face is smeared with tears. He buries his head into the woman's chest with a small cry. The man lets out a snort before making his way back to the front, grabbing a Doritos pack on his way. When the man reaches the front, he presses the gun against the back of the boy's head. My eyes widen in horror at the sight.

"Leave him alone!" I yell. Suddenly, the young robber turns around and aims his gun at me.

"Audrey!" My mom pushes me onto the floor. I crawl backward in an attempt to stand up. That's when I hear the shot. Suddenly, everything goes completely silent. All movement around me slows down to an excruciatingly slow pace. I can hear my pulse pounding through my body. I watch in shock as my mom falls to the floor. "Mom!" I scream. I try to crawl past the man who just shot my mom but he doesn't budge. He just holds the gun unevenly, pointing it at me. Tears begin to run down my face in rivulets and blur my vision.

"We weren't supposed to kill anybody!" the man with the Doritos pack shouts.

"Shit. I panicked. Fuck," the guy who shot my mom yells. "Stay back," he says flatly as I try to reach my mom.

"I shudder before whispering, "Please! She's going to die!" The guy glances away from me and then back. He's wavering as he looks back at his accomplices, who don't move a muscle. I see my chance.

"Audrey?" my mom croaks from the floor. Immediately, I grab her unsteady hand, feeling a dull ache forming in my chest. It feels as if there is a lead weight on my heart. I wheeze as I notice a small pool of blood underneath my trembling mom. I try in vain to apply pressure to the wound.

It's no use.

A hollowing feeling settles in my stomach, knowing that my mom is quickly slipping away. Her eyes don't hold the sparkle or personality that they usually do. My body feels like it's sinking.

"Mom, please don't go. Please," I say, pressing my warm forehead against hers. Closing my eyes firmly, I feel my brown hair fall over my mom's pale face. I try to search for the phone. "You'll be okay. It's okay, mom. Don't worry...I just need...."

My mom tugs at my arm and a sick realization falls over me. The room spins and my head pounds in response. "Honey, I love you," she murmurs. I look down at her dark eyes and use my free hand to wipe my tears. I don't know what to do. All I can do is watch helplessly as the life fades away from her eyes. My mom's hand turns as cold as a stone and her grip loosens. This can't be real. I want this horrible nightmare to end, to wake up and forget all of this.

"I love you, too," I say before she disappears forever. Bringing a shaky hand up to her neck, I check her pulse. Her chest isn't moving. She's gone.

My whole body feels numb. Pulling away from my mom, I fight the ache in my heart to stand up.

The young man immediately puts his gun up. "Don't move."

"I'm getting out of here," the man who hadn't said a word till now mutters before running out. I keep my eyes set on the one in front of me. The couple continues to watch the horrifying scene play out in front of them, no one daring enough to move. They're either too scared or don't care.

The guy who killed my mom is silently standing in the same spot. I am not myself, I felt something snap inside of me earlier. Tears blur my vision and I feel unsteady on my feet. The pain of losing my mom is ripping me apart.

"How could you?" I yell. I'm about to lunge at him when I feel my body quiver as an exhilarating pain shoots up my left leg. Collapsing onto the hard ground, I clutch my leg as my body screams in agony. They shot me. The naïve part of me doesn't believe it, that this is still just some twisted dream.

"No," the young guy whispers as he advances toward me. "Why did you do that?" he screams to the man behind him.

"Crap. We have to get out of here. Let's go," the Doritos man yells to the one in front of me.

"Hurry up, guys!" someone yells from outside. The one who shot my mom looks at the door and then at me. He sighs before breaking into a steady run towards the direction of the voice. The vile creature looks at me a final time before ducking out the door. He can look back and won't turn into stone because he's already cold and heartless.

As he turns to leave his sweater falls off his shoulder and I catch a glimpse of an elaborate tattoo on his bicep. It's an image that imprints itself in my brain, something that's going to play through my mind for the rest of my life. Someone is screaming. I want to tell them to shut up but I can't even move.

Wincing, I press my hands against my face, wanting it to all end. Touching my temple gently I breathe in slowly and heavily, trying to slow down my heart. The screams are coming from me. My body suddenly feels so heavy. I want to die. Curling up into a tighter ball, I watch the world become a blur. I shut my eyes, wanting everything to disappear and then it does. There is silent darkness, pure and dangerous. It's as if the world no longer exists.

This is all my fault. If I had just kept my mouth shut. She would still be alive.

|| Author's Note ||

Thanks for reading the first part of Explosive, it means a lot. If there is anything that seems confusing please let me know so I can change it around. Also, if there are any errors, please don't hesitate to point them out.