Feeling very iffy... Just finished watching seasons 1 & 2 of The Family Guy(it is the 'bestest' cartoon ever! Dare I say better than the Simpsons...)
Wrote something just for the sake of trying to be productive...
The tears from heaven drenched the city making the atmosphere lethargic. I walk the rain-slick street languidly, feeling an unusual wave of anxiety wash over me as I tread the watery paths… Closer and closer to the residence of my intended target, I felt my heart skip a beat.
No, I can’t turn back now.
I made a promise.
I don’t break promises.
I felt my feet stop, my body froze and I looked up to the dark sky. The crystalline drops that trickled down my face washed away whatever anxiety I had.
This isn’t about me.
It never was.
It’s about him.
With all the qualms washed away, I go my merry way. Seconds… Minutes passed and I finally find myself in front of his home- apartment, whatever. My lips curve in a rare smile. I never did have a much to smile about, but today… Today is different. Today is the climax of my life. The fulfillment of my purpose.
I heard faint footsteps after I rang the doorbell. My heart started beating erratically again. Whether or not it was a warning, I chose to ignore it. It didn’t matter now. Not when I’m this close.
No more turning back.
This is it.
The final show.
Cautiously, he opened the door and he found me standing there. Wet and with a hood over my face. I took in his distressed face with a smile… Two times in a single day I smiled. New record- not to be counted of course are the times I sit in front of my own television set with The Simpsons playing and a box of junior mints. That’s my private time when I indulge myself with life’s simple pleasures.
“Remember me?” I ask him. Before he could say anything coherent, I knocked him out.
I pulled the trigger then. The rain silenced the shot, but a faint sound still reverberated throughout the dimly lit mausoleum. But he didn’t scream… nor did he beg for his life. It was as if he knew what was coming.
It was not gratifying at all. I wanted him to beg… to loose his dignity and beg like common street peasant. But he was above all that. Even after two hours of agonizing torture, not once… Two f*ckin hours.
You see, I promised a friend of mine that I would make the person who ended his life suffer. Suffer so much, he’d beg. But alas, he didn’t- not for his death or for his life. The bastard even gave me a bloody smile after I pulled out most of his teeth.
I failed my mission.
I failed him.
I’m a pathetic friend.
I pressed the cold barrel against my own head. I failed, nothing is left for me to do- and when I think about it, even if I didn’t break the promise I hold so sacred, it would still come to this.
The past five years of my life has been a play. Act I was tracking down the enigmatic bastard who killed my friend… No, he was more than that. He was a dear comrade, a man who had a special place in my heart. Act II was my promise… The promise that I’d make the man suffer and beg. The finale would be my own demise. After all, I have nothing else to live for- no more unfulfilled promises.
Act II was a fiasco… A shameful fiasco. But as they say, the show must go on. And so it comes to this. I pull the trigger on myself and I lay down on the grimy floor… My sepulcher.
I’ll be joining you soon, my friend.
I know you’re not in Heaven.
So meet me in the gates of Hell.