You leave your room quietly at 12am, since you noticed he's not in bed.

You see him in the kitchen, sitting on a chair with a half filled bottle of wine in front of him, a cigarette in his mouth.

You walked up to him and sat on his lap without saying anything, clinging onto him.

But suddenly you feel a metal on the side of your head-... Oh- a gun.

"I'm sorry."

Are the only words this idiot says.