At 3/6/07 06:40 PM, Sixers1fan wrote:
At 3/6/07 06:51 PM, MrAngel wrote:
Good luck to you both. If one day you guys wish to return, we'll still be here with our doors open. :)
*Salutes*
Today has been an incredibly slow day. So slow, that I decided to write out a short story. :) This took me approximately one hour to brainstorm and to write out. If you guys can, please leave comments. They are very much appreciated. :)
(Warning: This story has explicit content.)
One Bullet
A short story by PenguinLink
There was this man that went with the name of Hawkeye. I have known him for quite some time now. We had been running an ammunition store for pistols and rifles for almost one year. We both came to an agreement that any money we earned would be split into us both, half and half. But that wasn’t how it went. Hawkeye took 3/4's’s of the amount we made and he only gave me the other portion. With which I barely lived off from. I hadn’t told him what the hell his problem was, or if he had forgotten the agreement we had made before we put the store up. He always gave me the excuse that he was accumulating most of the money we earned so that he could pay the Mob. A long time ago, he had asked for protection once when he had killed a member of a gang. He asked for protection from the Mob and they accepted. Hawkeye at the time did not have enough money to pay them back, but swore to them he would pay them once he had the money. The Mob agreed but with one exception, if Hawkeye didn’t pay the money before eleven months, they told him he would have a bullet pierced through his skull without him even noticing. Hawkeye accepted.
This had been going on for almost a year now. He would always take most of the money we would earn, and he would only leave me enough for food and rent. It had come to a point in which I would not take this bullshit anymore and I threatened him. I told him if he wouldn’t give me half of the money we earned by the next time our money would be distributed to us, I would have no other choice but to kill him. Hawkeye shrugged and said “So be it”. So the day came. I loaded up my pistol, with one bullet only, because loading my gun with more than one seemed useless to me. One bullet was enough to kill him, I said.
I walked out of my apartment. It was a cool, breezy night. I knew where Hawkeye lived, because we would sometimes distribute our money there. I walked over to his apartment, having made up my mind. I wasn’t feeling nervous or reluctant, I had made up my mind, and I was sick of this. I went up the stairs to his apartment, and I knocked twice. Moments later, he asked with a broad voice who was it. I told him it was me. He told me to come in. I opened the door and there he was, counting the money we had earned during the past few months.
He picked up a slim stack of money from his desk and he held it out to me. I looked at him with such hatred that he asked me what the hell was wrong. I was so angered by his question that I snatched the money from his hand and threw it on the floor. I yelled at him. Fuck you! Fuck that shit! I don’t want any of that shit! Hawkeye looked at me in bewilderment. I was even more angered by that look that I took out my pistol and pointed it at his forehead. I yelled at him once again. “I told you bitch! I told you I was going to kill your ass! I’m so sick of this shit! Hawkeye then smiled. He replied, “Aren’t we all.”
I smacked him across the head with my pistol and he fell towards his leather chair. He clutched his head and I saw blood streaming down the side of his forehead. “I’m not fucking around! This shit has gone for far too long!” I hold out the pistol to his forehead once again, my finger on the trigger. The one bullet was inside the gun, waiting to be fired and end a life. Hawkeye’s expression was of terror. He looked at me with frightened eyes. I was breathing heavily and my face had turned red with anger. Tears were streaming down Hawkeye’s eyes. But I didn’t give a shit. I was destined to kill him. I put my finger on the trigger. I was seconds before pressing it that I completely froze. I looked at the poor man weeping with terror. I thought to myself: What am I doing? Why am I pointing this gun at this man’s head for? Why am I going to ruin my life within a split second?
I kept pointing the gun at Hawkeye until I just let my arm fall. I looked at him for a long time, he was weeping, holding his hands over his ears, rocking in his leather chair, waiting for me to pull the trigger. I put the gun on his desk and he screamed and jumped in fright. I looked at him for the last time, with a sad expression on my face, and I walked slowly away from the apartment. I was about to leave the place when I looked at him one last time and I saw him staring at me. Muttering “Thank you” over and over. I turned over and shut the door behind me. I went down the stairs and I heard a gunshot. I ran up the stairs and saw he had shot himself. He was lying down on the floor, with a puddle of blood formed around his head. I could not help but think it was my fault he had killed himself. But then something caught my eye. I looked at his calendar that was hung in his wall and I saw that the date of today was circled in red. I ran towards the calendar and saw that in the date that was circled in red were inscribed the following words: “Last day”.
I looked at these two words in terror when I heard a muffled voice behind me. I turned around and I saw two men dressed in black, each one of them holding an Uzi. “Thanks for doing our bloody job.” One of them said. “Now get the fuck out before we kill you as well.” I looked at them with bewilderment and confusion. “But before you leave, tell us where he used to keep the money.” I pointed at a safe towards the corner of the room. I told him the code was in a piece of paper on his desk. The Men walked towards the desk and I didn’t hesitate to leave. I walked briskly out of the room, and then I looked once more at the room.
The Men were shuffling through some papers that were of Hawkeye’s and then I saw something that killed me. I would never forget this sight. I saw the capsule of the one bullet on the floor. The one bullet that could have prevented this of ever happening. I walked out before I started weeping in front of the men. I was going down the stairs when I heard one of them say “Well, what do you? The man did have all the money saved up.” I stopped dead in my tracks and them for a minute I wanted to be dead. Tears were streaming down my face, thinking why had I been such a fool. Today will always leave a mark in my life, and I don’t know how I will live on with this day in my conscience. I pulled the hat down I was wearing so that people would not look at my face and I kept on walking, tears still streaming down my face. I never knew that one bullet could change so many lives.
