DM Cross
You want to see a magic trick?
- Reaction score
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Actually 20 lines is fine. I think the limit for the contest is only like 30 lines.
The young man sat on his bed, the gun sitting not three inches from him. He stared at it and ran the thoughts through his mind again. He had to be sure this is what he wanted to do before he did it. There would be no turning back.
Life had taken everything from him. The love of his life was no longer his to hold. The lives of his friends, the only family he had ever known, were laying in shred around him. He had tried to prevent it, even if he could only delay the disaster for a time. His attempts had been met with failure. There was nothing left to take...
Except life itself.
Fighting back tears and painful memories, he wrapped his fingers around the handle of the gun. He knew what was loaded inside. A single bullet. For 3 weeks, he had come in, spun the reel, put the barrel to his temple and then put the gun down. No pulled triggers. No clicks, no bangs. Tonight, even if it did click, there would be a bang. No more chance.
The gun could hold six bullets, but he had one. Even if the first five were empty clicks, he would hear a bang. It would be, quite litterally, the last thing he ever heard.
Smiling bitterly, he spun the reel on the gun. He stared at it, the last thing he would see, before closing his eyes, raising the gun up to his head, barrel pressed firmly to his temple. His past suddenly leapt into his mind, making him see things he didn't want to see. Friends disappearing. Friends hurt, friends losing their own friends. He pulled the trigger.
Click.
Damn it, he thought bitterly. Couldn't have been easy, could it? He pressed the gun back to his head. Again, the images leapt up, but this time it was worse. These memories weren't bad. They were the best of his life. Beautiful brown eyes, soft lips, smooth skin. A love he no longer knew. He pulled the trigger.
Click.
Shit! he screamed in his mind. He just wanted an end. An end to the pain, an end to the depression, an end to his life, the crater of nothing it had become. He pushed the gun back to his head, this time pressing it hard against his temple. More memories, these times of pain. Falling fists, loud words, horrible feelings. He pulled the trigger.
Click.
The man burst into tears. Life was mocking him. It was kicking him while he was down. Here he was, without a prayer for even himself, without a desire to go on, and life couldn't even give him death. His only shining light was that life couldn't beat math. Only three more clicks were left. He knew full well what would happen with that gun to his head, so he quickly rose the gun, tightened his closed eyes, and pulled the trigger before the images could assault him.
Click.
Damn you, God, he silently whispered. He finally got it. Life, God, whoever was in charge of things around here, was going to make him endure every last possible second. Fine with him. Only two more to go. Quickly, he pick the gun back up and pressed it to his head to pull the trigger.
Click.
Fuck! he shouted, throwing the gun away from him, and across the room. It skittered and banged into the far wall. His head dropped to his hands, tears slowly falling from his eyes. Everything had been so hard. Now this.
"You know," he whispered, tired of thinking to himself. "You've made my life shit, man. No matter how bad I tried, you just brushed it off like it was nothing. You took her, them, everything. Why don't you just take what's left? Reap what you've sown, you hypocritical son of a bitch!" He shouted the last of the words out, bringing his head up to stare at the gun. "Fine. Don't do it. Let me."
He got to his feet, and walked to the gun, bending to pick it up. Checking the reel, he saw it hadn't moved when he'd thrown it. Now, there was only one more space in the reel left. This was his bullet. This was his way out.
The memories didn't even wait for him to move his hand. He was assault with her face. A beautiful face with big brown eyes that saw right through him. A wonderful smile that seemed to lighten his heart all by itself. The tears started to flow out of his eyes as his free hand reached out, even though he knew she wasn't there.
She never would be.
The thought slammed into him, and his sadness turned again to pain. He narrowed his eyes, in rage and hatred of what had been done to him. He looked at the gun, still the last thing he'd ever see.
"Good bye, world. I'll see you in Hell, you sadistic bastards."
He put the barrel to his head, but before he pulled the trigger, he opened his eyes without meaning to. The world around him dissolved, and it was like going back in time. He was surrounded by trees, a small pond in front of him. The gun was gone from his hand, but his arms were filled. She was there, looking at him. They were sitting on the ground, her in his arms, smiling up at him. He knew it wasn't real. It couldn't be. She wasn't there anymore. But she felt real against him, she even smelled real. As he stared in astonishment, she spoke, and she even sounded real.
"I love you, you know," she whispered up at him. But it wasn't true. Not anymore. That sole thought saved him. He took his arms away from her, bringing his empty hand back up to his head. The forest and pond began to dissolve. The gun was back in his hand. The last thing left was her. She dissolved slowly, still smiling, unaffected by his movements. How could she be? It was a memory, playing out like it had once upon a time. When he had been happy. When she had been his.
"I love you, too," he whispered, knowing she wouldn't hear the real him. He pulled the trigger, welcoming the bang and darkness that would follow.
Click.
The Stalkers rallied a party and sent it after him. They were either to bring him home to try to help him, or help the world be ending his existence.
Alexander said:Yeah, now Silver can brag about how he's read 8 and 9