Holy Mistake

Slowly consuming bread chopped into cubes that were put into a ziplock bag. Parents talking to the preacher and siblings crowding around them. I hear the church doors open and look up to see who's coming in. A congregation member needing to talk to Paster Charles? A man walks in with gun pointed at Charles. Conversation and laughter stops. Fear written on most of the faces. I don't recognize this man but Charles seems to.

"Bill, calm down. Put the gun away," he says in a soothing tone. "Let's just talk. There's no need for all of this."

"No!" The man crys, seeming to have a lisp to his speech. "I-I'm tired of talking!" My father and mother have causally ushered the kids behind them. Shielding them from the future. "At least let the kids go. They have nothing to do with this." Charles continues. Bill considers it. His face contorting into a look of pain and confusion. "No no no no no no....NO!"

"Okay, okay. Calm down Bill-"

Mumblings and ramblings as a reply.

What would have happened if we left when we said we would.