They say your life flashes before your eyes just moments before your impending death. Some glorious vision laid out in front of you for a split-second right before you meet your maker. A recollection of all your accomplishments, your triumphs.
Here I am, leaning against the wall of this crumbling apartment complex, a gun in my mouth and blood pooling around my feet. As I tongue the muzzle, all I can taste is the freshly burnt powder. The warmth of the still smoking barrel resting between my lips lets me know that I’m still alive.
Through the ringing in my ears, I can hear feverous yelling that constantly grows louder. Thundering footsteps that are closing in on my position. The sounds of strife that I am all too familiar with. Their source will soon to be upon me.
I just wanted a normal
