Fifty Days Of Pain

Chapter #1: The Trifler

In the summer of 2149 I was a fine, young, transgender man living it good in the city of San Francisco. I have, or should I say, at least had a wife and child. We did all the usual stuff that you'd expect a modern family to do. On Tuesday's I'd pick up my thirteen year old daughter Lily from school, and drive her in our shinny new hover car over to her hockey practice. On Friday's, we as a family would sit down in front of our television and watch the latest blockbuster releases on Netflix. Saturday's we'd fry up some burgers on our barbecue for dinner; and almost every night I'd have sex with my wife. Her name was Sarah, Sarah Dunkleman. She was the kindest, most beautiful woman I have ever met. Oh how I long to be with her again. Both Lily and Sarah were to good for me.

Then, life changed traumatically for the worse one terrible Thursday morning. On August 7th, 2149, I killed a man.

The night before that terrible Thursday morning I was at my local Irish pub, by myself drinking glass after glass of Guinness. I was sitting at the pub counter when an old, fat, ugly look'n bastard sat down beside. He was saying to me shit like how beautiful a, "woman" I am and such. It was obvious that he wanted to have me fuck him dry; so I got up out of my seat and proceeded to exit the pub. I had to much to drink that night so my movement was rather sloppy to say the least. The instant I set foot outside of the pub, I collapsed and passed out drunk on the sidewalk.

On that fateful morning I woke up on a strangers bed in the corner of a small, rundown, sketchy look'n apartment. It was practically a small kitchen, a bathroom, and a bedroom all in the same room; and there was water damage all over the place. My body was completely exposed like, not even my fuck'n binder and underwear were on. My body was all covered in this white gooey stuff. When I looked down and touched it, I realized what it was. I felt disgusting.

Then I hear a man humming Mr. Sandman by The Chordettes in the shower from the bathroom. Luckily for me he had left a revolver on the dresser beside me on my left. Then, I hear the absence of running water. The bastard had gotten out of the shower. At the last second I sprung up, grabbed the gun off of the dresser and as soon as the guy opened up the bathroom door and set foot into the bedroom. BANG!......BANG!......BANG!......BANG!......BANG!......BANG! I must've let rip every goddamn bullet out of the damn revolver. They all tore through the guys upper torso and neck; sending him tumbling backwards into the bathroom. Blood poured out of his body as if a damn had burst, coating the bathroom floor red. I dropped the revolver and took a good look at the asshole from the bed and saw the light fade from his eyes. Then I realized who I had killed. It was the old, fat bastard from the pub. After I shot the bastard, I froze.

Moments later, I hear the sirens of a police cruiser pull up outside and seconds later, two police officers bust open the front door of the apartment. First they see the bastard's naked bloody corpse, and then they see me, exposed and curled up in a ball on the bed.

"Tell us what the hell happened here!" Demanded one of the officers.

I couldn't respond in the moment because of the trauma I had endured; so both of the officers picked me up by the shoulders, bounded my arms behind my back via handcuffs and dragged me outside the apartment. I was still fuck'n naked at that point. I wanted to fuck'n run away but I just couldn't. I would have been shot dead. The cops dragged me down the balcony; and down the stairwell. Once we were on the ground, the two cops dragged me up to their police cruiser. We were facing right of the cruiser when one of them let go of me, and opened up the back car door in front of us. Then the officer holding onto me shoved me into the cage that was the backseat; before slamming and locking the door behind me. That officer opened up the front door and sat in the seat in front of me, while the other walked around to the drivers side on the left and did the same thing. The two officers then shut their doors; and the sirens started blaring as we began to move out onto the streets.