J

Jim 2

     - What you want? - Jim asked me coldly

     - I just wanted a gun - I replied looking at his tattoed left arm.

     - Come in.

His house was empty, as if nobody had never stepped into it. Jim lived alone. The right side of his face was burned, he had a medium-sized beard, and a golden tooth, hadn't cut his hair in months I feel. The furniture in his house was old, and broken. The smell inside was horrible. His house felt like my life, in ruins. He asked me why would I want a gun. Should I tell him? "Tell him, he won't even care if you are gone". And here goes the voice again. "He probably didn't know about your existence before you came here, tell him, maybe he will kill you himself". It is probably true, he didn't remember me. We hadn't met in the last 10 years or so.

     - Sooo, why would you want a gun kid? How old are you?

     - I want to escape - the words cam out of my mouth on their own

    - Huh, you remind me of me. Look around yourself. I am ruined. You want your life to turn out like this?

     - Just give me a gun. I can pay - people always need money. The corrupted society we live in makes everyone live for money.

Eventually, I got it. Jim is a broke single alcoholic, he accepted the 200$ without even thinking it twice. Now I have what I need to fulfill my latest desires. I got it easier than I thought. I didn't even have to use my knife. Yes, I brought a knife. "Do you feel so useless about yourself that you need to bring a knife?". Yes, I am useless. And who knows what happens inside the head of a 24-year-old alcoholic who has barely escaped prison? He could have killed me easily, he is what we usually call 'crazy'. But who cares anyway? We all go to the same place when we die I guess. Do we? Who cares? The important thing is that I got my gun. "KILL YOURSELF... NOW!"