My gun to the back of his skull I tell him to beg for his life. To give a single reason as to why I should have mercy on his soul.  He kneals in silence not sure how serious this moment is. I assume he thinks this is nothing more than an armed robbery and that my threat is hollow and nothing more than an attempt to make him fear me more. I pull the hammer of my pistol back in a slow motion to draw out the sound. The hammer click of a Desert Eagle has it’s way of playing with your mind. “Ohh God, NO! Please! DON’T KILL ME!! JUST TAKE MY WALLET! MY KEYS! ANYTHING DON’T KILL!!” I till my head at his response. I’m sure he can fell the slight twist of the barrel in his hair. “God? What makes you think I, am God? I am the further things from this imagery being you refer to as “God.” He stutters a response, “Who-who- whoever you are, please, just dont kill me.” His voice is now filled with fear. He’s started to choke on his words as he begins to cry. I look to my partner and smile, I think quickly redirect my gun and unload three rounds into his chest. “NO!” My hostage screams. I chuckle to myself, “That was Frank, I kind of liked Frank. What’s your name? “Martin! Martin Pennyworth!” he blurts out. “Well Martin, today can go one of two different ways. One way ends with you laying here, in this room, facedown, in a puddle of your own blood, with some brain matter in the mix. The other way, if you can convince me, ends with you leaving here. I can say I still won’t shoot you, but it won’t be fatal.” “Please! Tell me what do I have to do!” Martin pleads. The barrel of the gun now pressing back on his skull, “Tell me about your oh so merciful God, and make it good!” I pull the hammer back once more. “But, I’m not a man of God! I-I-I!” “You screamed his name yet, you are a non-believer of him. Is that what I’m hearing Martin?” “NO!!” Martin corrects himself, “I believe, I-I-I just don’t read the bible or go to church.” “So why did you yell his name? Did you think he would enter this room? Come here to protect you? To punish me for my evil and sins?” I force the barrel more into his skull as his now cries openly. Tears running down this face, snot bubbling in his nose. The face of name who knows his fate yet is not ready to accept it.  “Mr. Pennyworth, I ask you a question!” The anger can be heard building in my voice. “I DON’T KNOW!” Martin breaks his sentence sobbing, “It’s human! It’s what we do!”   “Mr. Pennyworth, give me you wallet.” He quickly scrambles across his pockets in the hunt for his wallet. He retrieves it and hands it back to me, trembling in fear, terror, desperation, or maybe a mixture of the three. With my free hand I reach for the wallet. I also relive some of the pressure on the gun.  I flip open his wallet and being to dissect it’s contents 135 dollars. A drivers licence which I keep, something of a souvenir if you will. Several debit and credit cards. “BINGO!” I yell out. “Mr Pennyworth of 18604 West 63rd street. Tell me about this adorable family of yours, and how this ‘God’ plans to protect them from me” “No, no, no, no, no, no! Please leave my family out of this. This has nothing to do with them!” “Oh but Mr. Pennyworth it has everything to do with them. For you see, if you die here today, Little Martin will grow up without positive male role model in his life. In fact twenty years from now he may be where I stand now. And you would’t want that now would we? No tell me,” I pause for a moment and take a breath before I say gritting my teeth “How with ‘GOD’ protect them from me!” “WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS!?” He pleads. “WHY ARE YOU-“ Before his can finish I should him in the right shoulder. He cries out in agonizing pain as he falls to the floor under him. I walk around him and feet near his head as he squirms around in pain.  “ANSWER MY FUCKING QUESTION MARTIN!” I scream towering above him, “HOW WILL GOD PROTECT YOUR FAMILY FROM ME!?” “HE WON’T!” escapes from his lips as he holds his arm. Pain shooting across his face. I can see the colour of blood overtaking the green of his shirt. “Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth.” A take a deep breath and look to the ceiling staring in to light. I look down on Martin Pennyworth wondering what to do with him. Should I leave him here? Should I kill him?  “Mr. Pennyworth, if lets say, this God does for all we know exist, why doesn’t he protect you, your family, and others like you, from evil, like me?” Martin curls into a ball on the floor at my feet, crying deeply now. “He can’t.” he says between sobs, “There is too much evil in this world for him to do so.” “Evil like me?”  Martin nods his head still holding his shoulder. He shirt now soaked in his blood. The smell of his blood is in the air now. The smell and taste of it. “Mr. Pennyworth, I have one last question for you. If your answer pleases me, I’ll leave you here, alive. But if it does not, you will die.” I glance of hope flashes across his face. The idea that he may yet leave here alive.  “Mr. Pennyworth what have you learned this evening. In this 5 life changing minutes. What. Have. You. Learned.” I squat down next to him and pull the hammer back and press the barrel of the gun against his temple.  He cries as he collects his thoughts. Trying to think of the answer that will save his life.  “I’ve…I’ve learned this world,” he pauses sobbing hard, ” will always have darkness and evil that God cannot protect you from. Please!” I dig the barrel into his temples still not satisfied with his answer “AND THAT ONLY I CAN PROTECT MYSELF FROM EVIL! THAT I’M BETTER THAN YOU! FOR YOU HAVE GIVEN INTO TO EVIL AND I HAVE NOT!” “Bravo, Mr. Pennyworth!” I remove my gun from this temple. He still cowers under me still fearing for this life. I reach my hand to his face and cover his eyes before turning him to face me. I bring me gun to this face. I tilt my wrist ever so slightly and fire. He screams in fear, and in his confusion I exit the room leaving his drivers licence on the floor. 

My gun to the back of his skull I tell him to beg for his life. To give a single reason as to why I should have mercy on his soul. 

He kneals in silence not sure how serious this moment is. I assume he thinks this is nothing more than an armed robbery and that my threat is hollow and nothing more than an attempt to make him fear me more. I pull the hammer of my pistol back in a slow motion to draw out the sound. The hammer click of a Desert Eagle has it’s way of playing with your mind.

“Ohh God, NO! Please! DON’T KILL ME!! JUST TAKE MY WALLET! MY KEYS! ANYTHING DON’T KILL!!”

I till my head at his response. I’m sure he can fell the slight twist of the barrel in his hair. “God? What makes you think I, am God? I am the further things from this imagery being you refer to as “God.”

He stutters a response, “Who-who- whoever you are, please, just dont kill me.”

His voice is now filled with fear. He’s started to choke on his words as he begins to cry. I look to my partner and smile, I think quickly redirect my gun and unload three rounds into his chest.

“NO!” My hostage screams. I chuckle to myself, “That was Frank, I kind of liked Frank. What’s your name?

“Martin! Martin Pennyworth!” he blurts out.

“Well Martin, today can go one of two different ways. One way ends with you laying here, in this room, facedown, in a puddle of your own blood, with some brain matter in the mix. The other way, if you can convince me, ends with you leaving here. I can say I still won’t shoot you, but it won’t be fatal.”

“Please! Tell me what do I have to do!” Martin pleads.

The barrel of the gun now pressing back on his skull, “Tell me about your oh so merciful God, and make it good!” I pull the hammer back once more.

“But, I’m not a man of God! I-I-I!”

“You screamed his name yet, you are a non-believer of him. Is that what I’m hearing Martin?”

“NO!!” Martin corrects himself, “I believe, I-I-I just don’t read the bible or go to church.”

“So why did you yell his name? Did you think he would enter this room? Come here to protect you? To punish me for my evil and sins?” I force the barrel more into his skull as his now cries openly. Tears running down this face, snot bubbling in his nose. The face of name who knows his fate yet is not ready to accept it. 

“Mr. Pennyworth, I ask you a question!” The anger can be heard building in my voice.

“I DON’T KNOW!” Martin breaks his sentence sobbing, “It’s human! It’s what we do!”  

“Mr. Pennyworth, give me you wallet.”

He quickly scrambles across his pockets in the hunt for his wallet. He retrieves it and hands it back to me, trembling in fear, terror, desperation, or maybe a mixture of the three. With my free hand I reach for the wallet. I also relive some of the pressure on the gun. 

I flip open his wallet and being to dissect it’s contents

135 dollars.

A drivers licence which I keep, something of a souvenir if you will.

Several debit and credit cards.

“BINGO!” I yell out. “Mr Pennyworth of 18604 West 63rd street. Tell me about this adorable family of yours, and how this ‘God’ plans to protect them from me”

“No, no, no, no, no, no! Please leave my family out of this. This has nothing to do with them!”

“Oh but Mr. Pennyworth it has everything to do with them. For you see, if you die here today, Little Martin will grow up without positive male role model in his life. In fact twenty years from now he may be where I stand now. And you would’t want that now would we? No tell me,” I pause for a moment and take a breath before I say gritting my teeth “How with ‘GOD’ protect them from me!”

“WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS!?” He pleads. “WHY ARE YOU-“

Before his can finish I should him in the right shoulder. He cries out in agonizing pain as he falls to the floor under him. I walk around him and feet near his head as he squirms around in pain. 

“ANSWER MY FUCKING QUESTION MARTIN!” I scream towering above him, “HOW WILL GOD PROTECT YOUR FAMILY FROM ME!?”

“HE WON’T!” escapes from his lips as he holds his arm. Pain shooting across his face. I can see the colour of blood overtaking the green of his shirt.

“Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth.”

A take a deep breath and look to the ceiling staring in to light. I look down on Martin Pennyworth wondering what to do with him. Should I leave him here? Should I kill him? 

“Mr. Pennyworth, if lets say, this God does for all we know exist, why doesn’t he protect you, your family, and others like you, from evil, like me?”

Martin curls into a ball on the floor at my feet, crying deeply now.

“He can’t.” he says between sobs, “There is too much evil in this world for him to do so.”

“Evil like me?” 

Martin nods his head still holding his shoulder. He shirt now soaked in his blood. The smell of his blood is in the air now. The smell and taste of it.

“Mr. Pennyworth, I have one last question for you. If your answer pleases me, I’ll leave you here, alive. But if it does not, you will die.”

I glance of hope flashes across his face. The idea that he may yet leave here alive. 

“Mr. Pennyworth what have you learned this evening. In this 5 life changing minutes. What. Have. You. Learned.” I squat down next to him and pull the hammer back and press the barrel of the gun against his temple. 

He cries as he collects his thoughts. Trying to think of the answer that will save his life. 

“I’ve…I’ve learned this world,” he pauses sobbing hard, ” will always have darkness and evil that God cannot protect you from. Please!”

I dig the barrel into his temples still not satisfied with his answer

“AND THAT ONLY I CAN PROTECT MYSELF FROM EVIL! THAT I’M BETTER THAN YOU! FOR YOU HAVE GIVEN INTO TO EVIL AND I HAVE NOT!”

“Bravo, Mr. Pennyworth!” I remove my gun from this temple. He still cowers under me still fearing for this life. I reach my hand to his face and cover his eyes before turning him to face me. I bring me gun to this face. I tilt my wrist ever so slightly and fire.

He screams in fear, and in his confusion I exit the room leaving his drivers licence on the floor. 

I knew from the moment I walked into that room things were about to change forever. She talked to me for 20 minutes, never once looking in my direction. Never once using my name, constantly referring to me simply as, “you.” Even when I sat across from her in an attempt to hold some sort of eye contact to figure where this was coming from her gaze shifted between the window to my right, her cup on the table, the polish on her toes. All of these things has seemingly become more important than me in the moment. After she finished what she needed to say I sat there in a daze. Lost in the words, the emotion, the moment, lost in…life. I looked at her for what I assume would be the final time as she picked up her cup from the table and took one final sip before exiting the room.  After she left the room I sat there alone in the silence.  I watched the sunset. I watched it rise again. But this sunrise was different. In all of it beauty and colour it seemed almost as if it was muted to me. The tones and hues somehow turned down for me. I saw the vibrance in them, but only felt grey.  I opened the window and looked out it into the city it framed. I saw a collection of cold steel, and empty glass looking back at me. It almost felt like when she left she took all the warmth and colour of the world with her. I climb on to the ledge of the window exposed to the elements of the twilight hours. The sun kissing my face, the wind playing with my hair, the birds singing into my ears. But none of it seemed real as it did before she left. I turn my back to the city peering back into my dwellings and I remember her for once last time. I take a deep breath as I exhale I lean backwards over the ledge. My body soon feels weightless as I look at the window I’ve escaped. I fix my gaze on the single cloud in the sky and for a few moments everything goes silent until I hear a scream. I snap back to the world mere moments before my flesh and the cold unforgiving concrete meet. 

I knew from the moment I walked into that room things were about to change forever.

She talked to me for 20 minutes, never once looking in my direction.

Never once using my name, constantly referring to me simply as, “you.”

Even when I sat across from her in an attempt to hold some sort of eye contact to figure where this was coming from her gaze shifted between the window to my right, her cup on the table, the polish on her toes. All of these things has seemingly become more important than me in the moment.

After she finished what she needed to say I sat there in a daze. Lost in the words, the emotion, the moment, lost in…life. I looked at her for what I assume would be the final time as she picked up her cup from the table and took one final sip before exiting the room. 

After she left the room I sat there alone in the silence. 

I watched the sunset.

I watched it rise again. But this sunrise was different. In all of it beauty and colour it seemed almost as if it was muted to me. The tones and hues somehow turned down for me. I saw the vibrance in them, but only felt grey.  I opened the window and looked out it into the city it framed. I saw a collection of cold steel, and empty glass looking back at me. It almost felt like when she left she took all the warmth and colour of the world with her.

I climb on to the ledge of the window exposed to the elements of the twilight hours. The sun kissing my face, the wind playing with my hair, the birds singing into my ears. But none of it seemed real as it did before she left. I turn my back to the city peering back into my dwellings and I remember her for once last time. I take a deep breath as I exhale I lean backwards over the ledge. My body soon feels weightless as I look at the window I’ve escaped. I fix my gaze on the single cloud in the sky and for a few moments everything goes silent until I hear a scream. I snap back to the world mere moments before my flesh and the cold unforgiving concrete meet. 

It was just another Saturday night out with the boys in our attempts to pick up girls for our “conquest.” I know Such childish things, even though we had given up on the whole idea at the point it was still our joking point for the night. But at some point in between leaving the bowling alley and making our way to the bar I saw her, not once but twice. She was two lanes down from us bowling with friends and then again at the bar. By herself. It had to be the universe telling me to go for it, to talk to her, to try my luck. So I did. I sat down in the stool next to her and glanced at her for a second, looked away and looked back again. “So who’s stalking who?” she says to me WOW! She’s already started the conversation and it’s about stalking. I have to say something smart, no funny, no witty, no fuck I just need to say something at this point “I think you’re stalking me, but you’re cute so I’ll let it slide.” I saw. In my head I’m in a panic until I see that smile come across her face “Well played. If you’d like to know you stalkers name is Cassandra, Cassaandra Cain.” I pause for a minute and say, “Bullshit! You have the same name as a character from Batman?!” She blushes a little. “Glad to know I’m not the only adult who reads Batman comics, but if you tell me your name is Dick, Jason, or Tim. “ I laugh, “My last name is Drake but my first is Alex. Alex Drake. So Cassandra” “Call me Cassie” “…Cassie, You wanna get out of here and go somewhere to eat?” I can see her thinking about it for a minute and the gets off her stool and walks away from me. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK! I blew it, I came on too strong “Hey Robin, you coming?” My eyes light up when I process that things were still going as planned. We exit the bar and head back to her car while figuring out what to eat. That’s when it happened. She pulls me into the side alley and puts her back to the wall and pulls me closer to her Our faces within inches of one anothers.  I boldly lean forward for a kiss. My lips meet hers. We kiss for a moment before the sounds of the street bring us back to the world around us. I look down the alley to the street to see a pack of skateboards. I look back to Cassie, and I all I see is fangs. Before I knew what was going on I was on the ground unable to do anything as Cassie sucked the life from me. She was no girl looking for a good time. Hell she wasn’t one looking for a bad time. She was looking for her next meal, and it was me. I blackout from the bloodloss once she’s done with me. But the last thing I do remember is the look she gave me while standing over my soon to be lifeless body. 

It was just another Saturday night out with the boys in our attempts to pick up girls for our “conquest.” I know Such childish things, even though we had given up on the whole idea at the point it was still our joking point for the night. But at some point in between leaving the bowling alley and making our way to the bar I saw her, not once but twice. She was two lanes down from us bowling with friends and then again at the bar. By herself.

It had to be the universe telling me to go for it, to talk to her, to try my luck.

So I did. I sat down in the stool next to her and glanced at her for a second, looked away and looked back again.

“So who’s stalking who?” she says to me

WOW! She’s already started the conversation and it’s about stalking. I have to say something smart, no funny, no witty, no fuck I just need to say something at this point

“I think you’re stalking me, but you’re cute so I’ll let it slide.” I saw. In my head I’m in a panic until I see that smile come across her face

“Well played. If you’d like to know you stalkers name is Cassandra, Cassaandra Cain.”

I pause for a minute and say, “Bullshit! You have the same name as a character from Batman?!”

She blushes a little. “Glad to know I’m not the only adult who reads Batman comics, but if you tell me your name is Dick, Jason, or Tim. “

I laugh, “My last name is Drake but my first is Alex. Alex Drake. So Cassandra”

“Call me Cassie”

“…Cassie, You wanna get out of here and go somewhere to eat?”

I can see her thinking about it for a minute and the gets off her stool and walks away from me.

Fuck.

Fuck.

FUCK!

I blew it, I came on too strong

“Hey Robin, you coming?”

My eyes light up when I process that things were still going as planned.

We exit the bar and head back to her car while figuring out what to eat. That’s when it happened. She pulls me into the side alley and puts her back to the wall and pulls me closer to her Our faces within inches of one anothers. 

I boldly lean forward for a kiss. My lips meet hers. We kiss for a moment before the sounds of the street bring us back to the world around us. I look down the alley to the street to see a pack of skateboards.

I look back to Cassie, and I all I see is fangs. Before I knew what was going on I was on the ground unable to do anything as Cassie sucked the life from me. She was no girl looking for a good time. Hell she wasn’t one looking for a bad time. She was looking for her next meal, and it was me. I blackout from the bloodloss once she’s done with me. But the last thing I do remember is the look she gave me while standing over my soon to be lifeless body. 

(Source: hollaiffyouhearme)

The summer I spent travelling the world was my favourite.  I met a girl named Fiona, She was Irish, but that’s not where out paths crossed. We ran into each other on the Southern Islands of Japan. She stood out to me instantly. She was tall, tanned, well toned, and had the most beautiful brown hair. The way she stood there was she almost like a Goddess. I introduced myself to her and took an interest in me as strong as I took in here. We travelled the world together for 6 weeks. She called me her “American Boy,” in the sexiest of accents whenever she was drunk. Which was quite often.  We went everywhere in that six weeks, China, Korea, Germany, Brazil, South Africa, France, Austria, and countless other countries that are stamped into our passports and our memories forever.   But it’s where the journey ended that was the best of it. We went our own way for two weeks before I received a call. That sexy Irish voice in the happiest of tones, ” I can’t wait to meet our little American Boy.” A week later she was here in America, with me and I was with her, with them. The loves of my life. If I had the chance I’d do it all over again. 

The summer I spent travelling the world was my favourite. 

I met a girl named Fiona, She was Irish, but that’s not where out paths crossed. We ran into each other on the Southern Islands of Japan. She stood out to me instantly. She was tall, tanned, well toned, and had the most beautiful brown hair. The way she stood there was she almost like a Goddess. I introduced myself to her and took an interest in me as strong as I took in here. We travelled the world together for 6 weeks. She called me her “American Boy,” in the sexiest of accents whenever she was drunk. Which was quite often. 

We went everywhere in that six weeks, China, Korea, Germany, Brazil, South Africa, France, Austria, and countless other countries that are stamped into our passports and our memories forever.  

But it’s where the journey ended that was the best of it. We went our own way for two weeks before I received a call.

That sexy Irish voice in the happiest of tones, ” I can’t wait to meet our little American Boy.”

A week later she was here in America, with me and I was with her, with them. The loves of my life.

If I had the chance I’d do it all over again. 

When I was little my grandmother use to tell me stories of the spirit of the forest. A women who controlled everything within it. Grandmother told me she was the most beautiful women she had ever seen. Her hair the colour of the autumn leaves with eyes a blue as a pure sky. She was nature embodied.  And here she is, standing in front of my her gazed fixed upward and onward. I stand there and I wonder how old she is? How long had she been standing there? Does she even know I’m here.  My life nothing more than a blink of eye and her life.  Her gaze changes and she looks toward me. Our eyes lock and for a moment I can hear her voice in my head, answering all the questions I just had. Those bright blue eyes, never have I seen eye with such clarity, such warmth, such wisdom.  —— I feel out of tune with things. It’s either my cold or I’m really out of balance at the moment.

When I was little my grandmother use to tell me stories of the spirit of the forest. A women who controlled everything within it. Grandmother told me she was the most beautiful women she had ever seen. Her hair the colour of the autumn leaves with eyes a blue as a pure sky.

She was nature embodied. 

And here she is, standing in front of my her gazed fixed upward and onward. I stand there and I wonder how old she is? How long had she been standing there? Does she even know I’m here. 

My life nothing more than a blink of eye and her life. 

Her gaze changes and she looks toward me. Our eyes lock and for a moment I can hear her voice in my head, answering all the questions I just had.

Those bright blue eyes, never have I seen eye with such clarity, such warmth, such wisdom. 

——

I feel out of tune with things. It’s either my cold or I’m really out of balance at the moment.

I still remember the day I first saw here there in the park. I had no connection to her but the pain on her face was there and I couldn’t just leave it. I had to do something about it. I saw down next to her on the bench in silence at first and then after a few minutes she turned to me and said, “I don’t disgust you?” I placed my hand on top of her and looked into her eyes long enough so that she could see me, “no. I’ve been where you are before. I know how it feels to have everyone looked past you and treat you as if you’re not human.” Her eyes began to water as she started to fill with emotion. As she started to let go of the pain that she was holding within. Slowly tear by tear it all faded away.  “You must be a strong person,” I told her. “All of his other victims are scared for life yet you, you had the strength and courage to fight back. You survived without so much as a scratch on you.” A smile crossed her face and in that moment I could see the hope in her eyes. That she finally understood what all of this meant. I let go of her hand still looking into to her eyes,” Know because of you, he will never hurt another person, ever” In that moment she went from a broken women to one of strength, one who held pride in herself. She turned to me and said. “Thank you officer.”  ——— I hope this makes sense to everyone.

I still remember the day I first saw here there in the park. I had no connection to her but the pain on her face was there and I couldn’t just leave it. I had to do something about it. I saw down next to her on the bench in silence at first and then after a few minutes she turned to me and said, “I don’t disgust you?”

I placed my hand on top of her and looked into her eyes long enough so that she could see me, “no. I’ve been where you are before. I know how it feels to have everyone looked past you and treat you as if you’re not human.”

Her eyes began to water as she started to fill with emotion. As she started to let go of the pain that she was holding within. Slowly tear by tear it all faded away. 

“You must be a strong person,” I told her. “All of his other victims are scared for life yet you, you had the strength and courage to fight back. You survived without so much as a scratch on you.”

A smile crossed her face and in that moment I could see the hope in her eyes. That she finally understood what all of this meant.

I let go of her hand still looking into to her eyes,” Know because of you, he will never hurt another person, ever”

In that moment she went from a broken women to one of strength, one who held pride in herself.

She turned to me and said. “Thank you officer.” 

———

I hope this makes sense to everyone.

I always come here to sit and watch the sunset. It’s at the perfect spot in the valley so that wind is always moving so it feels like I’m flying. 

The air flowing throwing through my hair, my cloths dancing with the wind. If I knew I wouldn’t die I jump.

Nothing is more invigorating than the sensation of falling. Well for me anyway. 

Something about being weightless is just….perfect. 

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  • October 20, 2011, 12:30pm

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Today I died. I was 27 years, 5 months, 18 days, 7 hours, 52 minutes, and 8 seconds old. My death was what some would consider, average. I was riding my bike down 5th street when a cab decided that it needed my lane more than me. I leave behind nothing. No legacy. No children. No wife. Not even an animal. My life was very much like my death, average. I worked in a office building downtown where my job was more of less to file paperwork and process numbers of weekly estimates and projections. I got this job out of college because it covered my bills, “had room for growth,” and all the other bullshit reasons we get jobs. So that’s it my life, average. Bland. Vanilla. Plain. Nothing special. And now I’m dead.  Standing her over my dead body with the Grim Reaper reaching out to me I wish there was more that I could do. I wish I could of seen the world. Gotten married. Started a family. Anything.  Up until this moment I regretted nothing. Now I regret it all.  As the tall dark skeleton figure reaches towards me I step backwards and shake my head no over and over. This isn’t real! This is a dream I’m sleeping I’m at home in my bed and at any moment I’ll awaken to find this to be nothing more than a horrible nightmare. But I never wake. This is real. I’m dead. I take one last look back at my body as it lay in the middle of 5th street people swarming towards it in a panic.  As I get closer to Death he opens his robe around me and I feel the cold coming from within. As I get closer the cold enters me, I feel my insides grow cold and my bones begin to feel as if they are made of ice. I begin to cry to myself knowing now what I could of done and what I did do.  He closes he robe behind me and before the light vanishes I breath one final breath.  Within the darkness I see my life played before me as if I’m at a drive in. My birth. My 1st birthday My first bike. My first day of school. My 8th birthday when the girl from next door kissed me My 8th grade prom. Getting my drivers licence. Senior Prom. My college graduation. My college graduation. If only I could go back to that day and change everything. In that moment I am surrounded by the sound of voices talking, the smell of grass, I can feel a warm breeze on my face. I close my eyes and shake my head knowing this isn’t real.  When I reopen them I’m standing on stage shaking hands with my college dean as he hands me my diploma.  I stand there in total awe. Death, he had given my a second chance at life. A life I will no longer take for granted ——- I may write more of this

Today I died.

I was 27 years, 5 months, 18 days, 7 hours, 52 minutes, and 8 seconds old.

My death was what some would consider, average. I was riding my bike down 5th street when a cab decided that it needed my lane more than me.

I leave behind nothing. No legacy. No children. No wife. Not even an animal. My life was very much like my death, average.

I worked in a office building downtown where my job was more of less to file paperwork and process numbers of weekly estimates and projections. I got this job out of college because it covered my bills, “had room for growth,” and all the other bullshit reasons we get jobs.

So that’s it my life, average.

Bland.

Vanilla.

Plain.

Nothing special.

And now I’m dead. 

Standing her over my dead body with the Grim Reaper reaching out to me I wish there was more that I could do. I wish I could of seen the world. Gotten married. Started a family. Anything. 

Up until this moment I regretted nothing. Now I regret it all. 

As the tall dark skeleton figure reaches towards me I step backwards and shake my head no over and over. This isn’t real!

This is a dream

I’m sleeping

I’m at home in my bed and at any moment I’ll awaken to find this to be nothing more than a horrible nightmare.

But I never wake. This is real.

I’m dead.

I take one last look back at my body as it lay in the middle of 5th street people swarming towards it in a panic. 

As I get closer to Death he opens his robe around me and I feel the cold coming from within. As I get closer the cold enters me, I feel my insides grow cold and my bones begin to feel as if they are made of ice. I begin to cry to myself knowing now what I could of done and what I did do. 

He closes he robe behind me and before the light vanishes I breath one final breath. 

Within the darkness I see my life played before me as if I’m at a drive in.

My birth.

My 1st birthday

My first bike.

My first day of school.

My 8th birthday when the girl from next door kissed me

My 8th grade prom.

Getting my drivers licence.

Senior Prom.

My college graduation.

My college graduation.

If only I could go back to that day and change everything.

In that moment I am surrounded by the sound of voices talking, the smell of grass, I can feel a warm breeze on my face. I close my eyes and shake my head knowing this isn’t real. 

When I reopen them I’m standing on stage shaking hands with my college dean as he hands me my diploma. 

I stand there in total awe. Death, he had given my a second chance at life.

A life I will no longer take for granted

——-

I may write more of this

Japan’s Feudal Era. There I stand with my mother and my younger brother, two nights ago our father was killed. The man who claimed his life went by Matsuda Sasuke. I say went because as of this moment I hold his head in my hand. I took me 13 years to find him in the countryside, but after years of hunting and training I can finally say revenge is mine. The taste is not as sweet as I would of thought. In fact it’s even more bitter than I fathomed possible. I look into the eyes where once a soul could be seen only see nothing but emptiness. I look up from his eyes I see his son. The same age I was he slayed my father. I place the head on the ground and clean his blood from my blade before place it back within it’s sheath. I turn my back to the child and behind to walk away. I stop in my steps and walk towards to child who goes into a panic and falls backwards in a failed attempt to run. I stop where I stand and say, ” Young Matsuda, if you feel I have wrong you in anyway, once you reach the age seek vengeance if you wish.  The man who killed your father, who many winters ago killed my father, his name is Yamaguchi Tetsu” Now let me tell you how I got to this point….. ——- New Story. This will be published on Mondays at noon and tagged Tetsu Saga. The story of a samurai during the Japanese feudal era. 

Japan’s Feudal Era.

There I stand with my mother and my younger brother, two nights ago our father was killed. The man who claimed his life went by Matsuda Sasuke. I say went because as of this moment I hold his head in my hand. I took me 13 years to find him in the countryside, but after years of hunting and training I can finally say revenge is mine.

The taste is not as sweet as I would of thought. In fact it’s even more bitter than I fathomed possible. I look into the eyes where once a soul could be seen only see nothing but emptiness. I look up from his eyes I see his son. The same age I was he slayed my father. I place the head on the ground and clean his blood from my blade before place it back within it’s sheath.

I turn my back to the child and behind to walk away. I stop in my steps and walk towards to child who goes into a panic and falls backwards in a failed attempt to run. I stop where I stand and say, ” Young Matsuda, if you feel I have wrong you in anyway, once you reach the age seek vengeance if you wish.  The man who killed your father, who many winters ago killed my father, his name is Yamaguchi Tetsu”

Now let me tell you how I got to this point…..

——-

New Story. This will be published on Mondays at noon and tagged Tetsu Saga.

The story of a samurai during the Japanese feudal era.