An extract from a book i'll never write | Poetry |

29: RUSSIAN ROULETTE

We're both holding a gun against the other person head. You hand is shaking slightly from the weight of the metal death machine. Whereas mine is still and locked in place. Your eyes keep darting from the gun you point at me then your eyes dart to my face. It's as almost as if you are analysing my whole face. Placing it into memories if the worst would happen. Your breath has become loader and I can here it without even trying to like you have just run laps around an Olympic track.

Are you nervous?
Are you afraid?

"Look at me" I say trying to lock eyes with you, you resist but slowly you place those beautiful eyes on me.

"I want you to let me go"

"How?" You ask I can tell that your no longer hiding the pain from your voice.

"You just need to give that trigger a little pull." I  try to sound optimistic I'm but failing to.

"...But you'll live right...?"

Your words eco through this old run down building. The question cuting thin air with ease like a burning knife cutting butter it slice's through without any resistance. A tight knot forms in my stomach, pulling and tightening untill it takes up the whole space of my body.

I let the question go unanswered.

I can see it in your eyes that you already know the answer to it anyway. But as always your too afraid to speak out. I've noticed that about you, you keep your feelings locked away of fear of rejection but that cause others to follow there own heats and dreams.

Sometimes I think if you had spoken up about yourself maybe, just maybe things would have been different. We would have less scars that cover our bodies, we would have cried just a little less and maybe you would have your wish of haveing someone by your side in the art of love.

But it's too late to think about that now, all that matters is the here and now what we do or say will change everything. I've read what your write and I take it to heart. I know what you want to say. So say it out loud. I know you have the confidence. Say it. And maybe both of us could live, undamaged.

"Please I don't want to do this anymore"

"It's ok I'm scared too but right now I need you to be brave and to be strong."

"HOW!" You scream at the top of your lungs as a tear trace's the side of your face in an ironic sideways smile. The fear has creeped into your voice and it cracks like a chair dose suffering under it's own weight

"... Ok... We're going to play a little game... Do you like to play games...?"

I don't wait for you to respond

"It's called Russian Roulette I'm sure your familiar with it. We'll take turns pulling the trigger until all the empty shots have been fired, ok?"

"Who is going first?" Your voice almost now at a whisper, your head is no longer pointed at me it's now dropped like your a child who's done something wrong filled with shame and guilt.

"...You can go first"

I say with an upbeat tone, looking at her I look at you trying to give you a convincing smile and as I do just for good measure I close me eyes and my lips part as my checks raise.

As I open my eyes I realize that you must have taken the bait because you smiled back and I almost believed you.

You hand griped the gun as you raised your other hand supporting the weight of the machine.

You take one last look at me.

Then you fire.

"th
an
k

yo
u.
.

.

"