• ----- Gunshot -----


    The blood is pooling around my feet. My fingers are shaking as I dip them into the flowing blood. It hurts, to do so, but I can’t help myself. The blood is mesmerizing and I am captured by its unreal glow.

    I feel the pain. It is gnawing my raw skin and setting it on fire. I would have winced, but my eyes are already closed as I relish in this hurt. I can feel it through touch; the hole in my chest. I wonder if it goes all the way through my body.

    I pull my hand to my back and have it scan the surface. My eyes shoot open as I immediately feel the nothingness in my back. So it did make its way through? I thought that maybe it had lodged in my body, where I would forever have proof of this moment.

    I put my hand on the floor in front of me. Since when had I fallen to the floor? Oh well, it doesn’t really matter to me anymore. I smear the fingers across the floor leaving a trail of red behind them.

    Finally I spot the gun. It’s right where it was left; I know it has not been moved. I guide my red hand to the gun and roam my fingers over it. The gun seems fake, but I know that is not the truth. It is indeed real and I move my hand to my chest and tug at the edges of the proof.

    I guide my fleeting attention back to the pistol. The feel of the gun is cool on my skin. The sensation is not nearly as foreign as I thought it would be. I take note of its features as my eyesight dims.

    The hammer is in position after the shot. The barrel is shining against the refracting light. The muzzle is warm from the bullet fired. The trigger is still held back by a finger. The grip is held tight in my hand.