Reads: 317  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 1

More Details
Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic
a man regrets

Submitted: July 15, 2016

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 15, 2016



They took the last person I ever loved in this world, they kidnapped him and then mutilated his body, until death caught him. They brought his cold dead body back to my office while I was out there, desperately searching for him for weeks. I can not comprehend the barbaric thoughts of these monsters for kidnapping a son from his father and then laying his decomposing body on my desk. I still remember the rotten smell when I first opened the office, I still remember seeing my only child dead on my desk with his little hands covering his eyes, I still remember breaking down onto the floor and not accepting the fact that he was gone. Wherever he is now, he is with his mom, receiving the love and comfort that I could not provide for him. The death of my wife and son still haunts me today, because I know that I brought them into this misery.


I am now here all alone on a dusty couch with vodka and a revolver. I try so hard to ignore the negative aspects of my life and to continue to avenge my family, but the weights on my shoulder are heavy. I just can’t walk anymore, the grief and regret has taken over me. Whenever I drink, I drink to excess. Whenever I smoke, I smoke to fill up my lungs with tar. Whenever I get sick, I stay sick for my last days. I have been doing these things repeatedly for over a year and now I have the guts to pull the trigger. I decided to get out from the couch with the shot glass in one hand and the gun in the other. I then headed to my room, to look at my family photo one last time.


“The fuck?” I said to myself when I noticed someone wrote a note on the back of my family picture.


“For the past year you have become a degenerate, and your life consist of hard liquor, cigarettes, and having suicidal thoughts like you will have today. Your suffering does not amuse us anymore. As soon you read this note, a well trained man will be at the door and you will open the entrance and surrender your weapon. If not, consequences will occur.”

Immediately, I felt my stomach drop to the floor and my hands started to tremble. I crumbled the photo, dropped it to the floor, closed my eyes, placed the revolver into my mouth,and pressed the trigger.


*Click* BANG


I opened my eyes again and realized they replaced the bullets with blank; I screamed in internal pain and walked out from the room. As I opened the door I was immediately knocked out by the handle of a knife.



© Copyright 2018 The Merrimack . All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:




Booksie 2018 Poetry Contest

Booksie Popular Content

Other Content by The Merrimack

Popular Tags