Thoughts of a Dying Man

Oh, man! There's so much blood for such a small hole. My hand is covered with the hot stuff that has kept me alive for twenty two years. Why'd she have to go and shoot me anyhow? Couldn't she accept the fact that we're no longer an item? No longer the happy couple we had led everyone to think we were? Why couldn't that stupid fuck she calls Daddy, keep his goddamned, precious target pistol locked up? Oh, Jesus! This hurts! It hurts more than this goddamned brick stair driving into my back.

Just what the hell did Andrea think she was going to accomplish by shooting me? I'm certainly not going to beg her forgiveness, nor implore her to take me back. Fucking bitch! She shot me! Is that suppose to make things all right? Just what happened to bring her to this? The answer ran through my head in a fast-forward of memory.

I remember the day we first met. Damn, Andrea was so hot in that leotard at the gym. I got hard just watching her move to the rhythm of the music they were playing for the aerobics class. The way her glossy brown hair bounced, fanning about her head. The sweat accentuating her tits packed inside that gray crop top. Oh, man! How I loved her tits! I could nuzzle them babies all night! So soft and warm. Yeah, she was one hot babe. I damn near gave myself a hernia trying to show off with the barbells. Roger said that two hundred pounds was too much for me, but I insisted and succeeded. I got off two reps and Andrea was sold on me. Damn, she's so shallow.

Too bad she got all weird on me after I told her I loved her. It was like I had put a wedding band on her finger, the way she got so possessive.

Like the night we were having a nice dinner at Vittorio's. The lasagne was great, oozing with melted mozzarella cheese, thick with riccota and Italian sausage and a sauce that was heaven. Even the wine, as cheap as it was, really warmed things up for us. Then the waitress had to drop that plate. I couldn't help myself, when she bent over and I caught a glimpse of her ass with only a thong covering it...Well, shit! What man wouldn't stare? Andrea caught me and went totally postal. She made such a scene, a scene bigger than a lovely thong covered ass was worth. I can still feel the sting of her hand slapping my face, when I think about it. I have to say, though, that it hurt a lot less than this frigging bullet.

That wasn't the end of it though. She began showing up at my apartment in the middle of the fucking night to make sure I didn't have another woman with me. Her phone calls, cost me my job, she had been calling me every fifteen minutes, telling the foreman it was an emergency. Only emergency was that she had to know what I was doing and who I was with. Jesus fucking Christ! I'm a goddamn construction worker! We don't even have a female on-site here. The foreman saw to that. He didn't want us distracted on his shift and found ways around not having females on the premises regardless of what EOE dictated. Andrea's constant calls didn't change his thinking of meddling women. That fucker, he was married to his job, he didn't have any need for a woman.

Andrea was stalking me when I was job hunting. I know she was, I saw her ducking into doorways and turning her back, pretending she was looking at something in a window, acting oblivious when I finally confronted her. She thought she was being cagey, by giving me a look of surprise, her painted lips turning on the smile, and saying what a surprise it was to run into me here. Bitch! That was the end of it. I told her it was over and that I never wanted to see her again. I thought I had explained to her well enough, that she was too damn jealous and possessive.

Of course, she had to make a scene again. Her imploring to me in the middle of the street, to give her another chance, mascara streaking down her face with big wet tears. Swearing she wouldn't do it again, that she would give me my space, just don't dump her like this. I ignored her pleads by hailing a cab and having the driver take me as far as my last five dollars would take me. She thumped on the closed window with dainty hands, her face an ugly mess from crying, cursing me, telling me I was going to be sorry for treating her this way.

I wish now I hadn't taken her threats so lightly. She was waiting for me to leave my apartment tonight. I don't know how long she stood on the other side of the street, swigging vodka from a brown paper bag. I know it was vodka, I could smell it on her breath as she slurred her words, saying she was giving me one more chance to take her back. Again, I told her it was over and why couldn't she fucking get it into that thick head of her's.

She screamed so viciously that she actually spit in my face. She pulled the gun from the pouch pocket of her hooded sweat shirt, ripping the cloth when it didn't come out easily. She held it with two hands, shaking and wavering with the mixture of alcohol and her enflamed anger. I figured she would miss and backed up to increase those odds. She didn't, though. I was surprised that when the gun went off, it didn't sound quite as loud as I expected. It sounded more like the backfire of a car. The recoil sent her reeling though, enough to make her fall off the curb and land in a heap. She lost the gun and scrambled to her feet, looking for it. Then she saw me. I stood here, one hand clasped over the hole in my belly, blood gushing out over my fingers. She looked so stupid; her mouth hanging open, blue eyes wide with shock. Then she started to babble. I think she was trying to tell me she was sorry, but I couldn't be certain. I had this damn rushing sound in my ears, like I was listening to the roaring of the ocean in a seashell. Then I fell backwards onto the stairs of my stoop, I thought I would pass out at that point. The front of my jeans were getting sticky wet with my blood and it was starting to pool under my ass and flowing down the step I was sitting on. Man! I couldn't believe how much blood there was!

Andrea ran away when I could just barely make out the sounds of a siren. The police will find the gun, 'cause she never did. I hope they fry the bitch. It's what she deserves.

Damn...I'm so cold.