It's Not My Fault

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Some people never quite get what rules are for.

Submitted: April 17, 2017

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Submitted: April 17, 2017

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"Oh Hell, what am I going to do now?"

"You are going to do what you always do, something stupid, like the stupid that got you into this mess in the first place."

"Who are you?"

"Who do you think?"

"Do you always answer a question with a question?"

"Only when the question's answer is so obvious that it need not be answered. Why do you ask?"

"Well, because I would like to know who I'm talking to."

"People call me and my kind angles."

"Did you come to help me? I could really use some help here."

"Well I guess you do! How did you get yourself into this mess anyway?"

"You mean that you don't know?"

"Oh, I know, I just want to hear your version. And please, start at the beginning."

"Well, I came from a broken and dysfunctional family, that's what the Social Services Shrink says.

My Dad was a drunk. Every Friday, after he got off work, he would come home with a six-pack of cheep beer, and it would be gone by Sunday night.

Now, as far as my Mom goes; I always felt that she loved my sister more than me 'cause she yelled at her more. You know, paid more attention to her.

So, as soon as I got old enough to size up the situation, I went looking for a real family that I felt that I belong with, you know, a family that cared about me.

After awhile my friends and I started this club and then the cops started harassing us just 'cause we was take-n advantage of some five-finger discounts at the local retailers; among other situations.

Well, that really pushed me over the edge and I started doing drugs to cover the emotional stress that I was always in; you know, 'cause of the mistreatment by everybody.

That's when I was forced into steal'n cars and sell'n drugs to cover the cost of the drugs that I needed.

My parents sure wouldn't help me out any, they wanted to put me in a detox center; --- like that was going to happen.

Well, last week I wandered into this guys house by mistake and he had this gun just lay'n around, so I took it along with some other stuff that was in that safe. Which brings us to here and now.

When I woke up this morning I was real hungry, so I came to this AM/PM for a snack. When I paid for my Chili-dogs I notice this big bunch of cash that was in the register. The new girl behind the counter must have forgotten to make a drop into their floor safe, they never have that much cash in there.

Well, that was an opportunity I just couldn't pass up. So, I pulled the gun and told her to put the money in a sack, but she slammed the cash drawer and ran out the back door screaming her lung out.

I would have never gotten into this mess if all that money was in the safe where it belonged.

Anyway, when that dummy slammed the cash drawer closed she ran out with the key on her key chain. I had to take the whole register 'cause I couldn't get the drawer open. By the time I got the register disconnected, and started out the front door, the cops showed up. So I came back in and locked the door.

Now I'm stuck in here with a register full of money, a gun that I don't have any bullets for, and I never got to eat my chili-dogs. I should have ate them first, then pulled the gun.

So, Angel, are you gonna help me out of this mess?"

"NO, but the police officer that came in the back door will.

 

"Drop the gun and put your hands on your head!" Yelled the police officer.

"Oh, it's not loaded officer! --- See?"

BANG, BANG, BANG !

 

"Gee Angel, I feel really strange.

"Of course you do, now come with me."

"So, --- is heaven as great as people say?"

"I said I was an angel, I didn't say from where."

 

D. Thurmond / JEF --- 04-15-2017

 

 

 


© Copyright 2017 D. Thurmond, aka, JEF. All rights reserved.

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