Love Bang

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
The terror love can inflict on us all.

Submitted: August 06, 2017

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Submitted: August 06, 2017



He put a bullet through his brain.

Slumped against the window, he watched from the darkness as the sun began to rise into view, slowly illuminating the thick fog, that like his mind, had cast a veil over all that he needed to see. His thoughts had become clouded with negativity, and hopelessness. The cupboard beside him containing what he now thought was his only option to cure himself of this regret. To stop the never ending misery.

Pulling a gun from the drawer, and without hesitation, he pushed it into his head. The cold steel of the weapon should have acted as a warning, but all it did was fill him with determination. Quickly pulling the trigger with unquestionable eagerness to end the feelings right there. 'Click' the barrel spun around to the next chamber, as his body jolted out of its anticipation of what was supposed to come! 'Click, click, click, click, click' a never ending round of hopelessness filled the barrels, as he furiously pulled the trigger. Each click was met with another jolt from his entire body, his ending being dragged on with each click of the trigger. The sounds almost laughing at him; mocking his inability to end it right there.

He stopped. Silence invaded the room, loudly mocking his attempts. The gun still pressed to his temple digging an impression deeper and deeper into his skin, as the relentless intention remained. Rage erupted and took over his body, the gun launched out of his hands with savage force, crashing into unwashed plates, bowls and half empty beer bottles that littered the cabinet beside him. Their shattered shells exposing their almost mummified remains, the contents dripping into the drawer below them. He briefly noted, with bitter amusement, that the broken remains before him resembled how he felt about his own life. A shattered shell. Fragmented. Damaged. Pitiful. The stench of rotten food and flat beer began to fill the room. A stench that would've driven most out, but which didn't even cause a moment of acknowledgement from him, as his focus remained.

The resentment, the disappointment he had in himself, had caused his whole body to shake with fury. His trembling hands rummaged through the drawer, searching frantically for the revolver’s ammunition. The bullets eluded his grasp, rolling between the old trinkets accumulated in his life. Trinkets that no longer held any meaning. His search was suddenly distracted, as they came to rest on a single item. A heart shaped locket. His fingers now quivering with emotion as they brushed along the engraving upon the heart.

He pulled the delicate locket out of the drawer, reading the words etched into the silver, 'my soul'. With his quivering fingers he opened up the locket and was faced with her. The most beautiful girl he had ever seen, smiling up at him angellicly. He felt a piercing, painful pang in his heart as memories flooded his clouded mind, almost assaulting him as he was sharply pulled back into a time he'd almost forgotten. The cluttered and filthy room erased from view and was replaced with unpacked moving boxes and dust sheets. Sunlight gleaming through the windows, light rays and dust dancing together amongst laughter and happiness. He saw himself in the room, with her. The person who was his very existence. This was the day they had moved into their home together. Hers was the vert face he wanted to erase from his mind. The way the skin on her nose snuggled closer together, each time her delicate lips curved up into a sweet smile. The way her large grey eyes would light up with affection each time she looked at him. He could still hear her warm laughter filling the room as the locket slipped out of his hands, shattering the invading silence as it clattered on the floor and at that very moment he was torn back into this reality, the heartache ripped through him all over again. He could no longer contain the tears, his entire view slipped behind a flood of memories. The good, the funny and the bad. Each tear representing a different moment in his life, with her; yet also without her. Guttral, almost animalistic cries ripped from his throat as he no longer contained the agony; setting it free.

All the happiness he gave her, he couldn’t comprehend her reasons for leaving him like this. He gave her everything, now all he had were shattered remains. What had he done to deserve this existence? This tourture and suffering? Life without her had no meaning to him, it was all he had known; all he wanted to know. He remembered their earlier phone call, where her only response to his cries for help, was “just get over it, grow up”. His earlier determination returned, and hands no longer trembelling, he lunged for the gun. Calmy and carefully he loaded each bullet and returned the barrel to his forehead. Finger on the trigger.

‘Click’. BANG.

The door to the apartment swung open.

© Copyright 2018 evan howle. All rights reserved.

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