The Fight For Cookies: A Short Story

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The Fight for Cookies

“Put the gun down!” the cop announced, aiming his flashy gun at me. “Or at least give me the bag,” he whined.
“Nooo way! Why should a robber share?” I screamed.
The chubby, short law enforcer then pointed his gun at me and pulled the trigger.
“Whoa!” I sputtered, as I felt my hairs on my head shift with the bullet he shot. I dove behind a chair and let bullets loose on him.
The sheriff came inching closer, shooting here and there, getting nearer and nearer by the second. His eyes were focused on one thing: the see-through plastic bag lying on the ground.
How did it get there? I must have dropped it! Looking from the bag of treasure to the person who could kill me, I decided to offer my life for the bag of treasure. With that, I leaped for the bag, barely dodging the officer’s shots. Lying down on my side, I reached for the prize, almost grabbing it, when boom! A bullet hit my chest.
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. . ,” I choked weakly, “just when I had them too.” Bit by bit, I slowly closed my eyes.
A small figure holding a Nerf gun and wearing a police cap came near with an enormous grin and towered over me. “I win!” he declared triumphantly, holding his gun in the air. The boy then reached down and seized the treasure bag full of cookies from my limp hand. The cop started to stroll away, but then turned back to look at me and asked “Do you want a cookie, too, Jimmy?”
I opened my eyes to glance at my little brother and let out a small, “Yes.”
After retrieving me from the dead, the two of us sat behind the couch and munched on our treats in our cop and robber onesies, until our common enemy came upon us.
“Boys, time for bed!”
We dropped our wafers and swiftly hid from the view of the monster waiting for us outside our hiding places; that demon would bring us to our prison rooms for the night, and her name was

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