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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1664585-Contemplationstory
Rated: GC · Short Story · Crime/Gangster · #1664585
story of a boys internal struggle after seeing his friend commit murder
         “No! Why are you doing this?” the man backs up against the wall as we step through the doorway.
         “You have a debt that must be paid.”
         “You want m-money? I c-can give y-you money.” He stammered, pulling out his wallet.
         “It’s too late for money. You made someone very angry.” My companion says, pulling out a Glock and aiming it at the man. “That’s one mistake you’ll never make again.” He finishes, and pulls the trigger. The round slams through the man’s chest and into the wall behind him. The trigger is pulled once more, this time while aimed at the man’s head. He falls to the ground, obviously dead.
         My companion holsters his weapon and walks out the door. In complete shock, I follow him. “I thought we were just there to scare him and get his money.” I say, looking over my shoulder one last time, horrified by what I just witnessed.
         “Is that what you were told? No, he was a lesson. He was an example for the others. You don’t cross us. If you do, you get shot.”
         I nod, but in my mind I’m already changing. I just wanted friends. I just wanted a family. My parents? What parents? They don’t have time for me. They’re always out with their ‘friends’, drinking and partying. I feed myself, clothe myself. I do everything myself. But eventually it gets to you.  When you learn to do everything by yourself, you get angry. You get angry at everything and everyone. You also develop severe trust issues. The man I was with now was more of a father to me than my real father, but I still wouldn’t trust him with anything.
         He tells me to go home and get some sleep. I slowly trudge home, still freaking out inside. As I reach my porch I can hear yelling coming from inside the house. And I groan. Another problem to deal with.
         “YOU NEVER DO ANYTHING!” my mom screams.
         “I WORK HARD TO PROVIDE FOR THIS FAMILY, AND ALL YOU EVER DO IS COMPLAIN!” There’s dad.
         “WORK HARD? YOU SPEND ALL NIGHT AT THE BAR, THEN COME HOME AND DRINK EVEN MORE! IT’S A WONDER THAT YOU CAN EVEN WALK!”
         “I DON’T NEED YOU TO TELL ME WHAT I CAN AND CAN’T DO!”I had anticipated where this was going, and had placed myself around the side of the house. My dad storms out the front door, slamming it behind him. The door to his truck opens and slams. The engine revs and the tires squeal, then fade out as he drives away.
         I know that if I go into the house, my mom will start screaming at me, too. Instead, I leave. I have no idea where I’m going; I just know I need to go. I walk for hours, my emotions building with each step.
         It’s just too much, I realize. I’m not a murderer. I’m not built that way. And with my parents always drinking and fighting, I have no one to turn to. My friends, that man I was with, they’d just laugh, and maybe even shoot me for being so weak. If being a man means I have to be super-tough and can show no emotion, then I don’t want to be a man. Tears are streaming down my face, and I realize what I have to do.
         I left. Left my parents, left my 'friends', left everything. I walked straight to the heart of a rival crew’s territory. I only had to circle the block once before they approached me.
         “Look what we got here, fellas,” One of them sneers, “We got ourselves a cub. Where’s your mommy, little cubby?” I keep my mouth shut. He pulls a pistol and smashes it against my face. I fall to the ground as blood fills my mouth. I spit it out and try to get up, but he presses the barrel to the side of my head. “You will answer when spoken to.” he whispers into my ear. I swear at him and he whips my face again. Stars fill my vision for several seconds. The pain is excruciating, but I don’t care. It will all be over soon. The man allows me to climb to my feet, and then pushes the gun into my chest.
         “One more time, cub. Where is your mommy?”
         “Wouldn’t you like to know.” I snap, knowing this is it.
         “Wrong answer.” He says, pulling the trigger twice. As the lead enters my body, I tumble over, clutching my side, smiling like a maniac. No more pain, no more hurt. No more getting yelled at, no more anything. I’m finally free. As I slip into the darkness for the last time, I’m finally at peace...
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