i stood there frozen, my eyes going from the gun to him, back to the gun, and back to him. despite my countless glances i either couldn't fully comprehend what was happening, or i just didn't give a shit. truth be told i've been wanting to die for a while, but not quite in the way you come. you see, i'm too much of a little bitch to actually kill myself, but if there was any opportunity for me to die without too much effort, then i'm there. my carelessness led me here on this blind date which i'm hoping will be my last.
"hey, bitch, look at me." he harshly spoke, but hell, what other tone would i expect?
i looked at him blankly, "do it."
he looked a little taken aback, "what?".
my expression didn't change, "come on, big man. shoot me. i know you wanna.".
from the way i'm talking you may think i have a death wish, and you'd be exactly right.
he laughed, "oh, so you think it's funny?".
i shrugged, "lately i find everything pretty damn funny, won't even lie to you.".
he took a step closer to me; i didn't move.
"now go on, make the ultimate joke. shoot me."
i looked him dead in the eye. his stance didn't change. his finger stayed on the trigger, but he didn't pull it. i could sense the hesitation, and i hated it.
"and where exactly do you think talking shit is gonna get you?"
he was stalling.
i laughed a little, "well, hell, where else?"
he shook his head, "you're fucking crazy.".
i shrugged once again, "yet you're the one with the gun. who would have thought?".
"you know you talk a lot of shit for someone at gun point.", he barked.
"and you talk a lot of shit for someone who hasn't shot me yet." i replied without batting an eye.
he looked as if he was gonna pull the trigger, but then he stopped, "fuck, i've never done this before."
"aw, i'm your first? how flattering!", i said sarcastically.
he put the gun down and began mumbling to himself, "do i really wanna do this?".
i decided to encourage him in the worst way possible, "well considering you got this far, i'd say you do. what am i gonna do, call the police? you probably have some kind of unresolved childhood trauma, and if it makes you feel better i'm more than happy to let you take it out on me.".
he raised an eyebrow, "what the hell is your problem?".
i laughed, "says the man with the gun. what, are you scared?"
he scoffed and held the gun back up, "hell no."
"aw, i think so," i said to annoy him, "come on, you big baby, do it already. i'm right here, an easy kill. do, you little bitch."
i could see the anger festering in him so i continued, beginning to yell, "come on, pussy! you won't do it, you don't have what it takes, you're just a big wimp that'll...".
my sentence was interrupted by the gun going off, then the piercing, excruciating pain in my chest. i fell to the floor, bleeding everywhere. sorry to whoever had to clean that up. the dude went on to kill like four more girls before he got caught.
i kinda feel bad, i'm sure not all of them wanted to die, but hell, maybe he always needed that much persuasion. who knows, and who cares? well, probably their families, so i'm kind of an asshole for saying that, but you were supposed to hate me this entire time, so. but hey, i was a bitch when i was alive, why would i change when i'm dead? i got what i wanted, that's all i need.
