Bulletproof Heart

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A super-short thing I scribbled out of boredom and such

Submitted: November 13, 2011

A A A | A A A

Submitted: November 13, 2011




Six feet away. Gunfire. I hear it. Right there. Right in front of me. And fire. Flash fire stinging at my eyelids, into my mouth and down my throat. Tearing through my lungs with acrid rage.

“Mikey? Mikey!”

They're screaming for me. But I can't save them. They're calling my name... Why can't I help? The fire has me pressed to the floor. So heavy.

“Someone get him inside...” Who? Someone's been hurt. I can't see. There's a fire across my eyelids, through my sinuses. And the guns still rattle and roar, ripping holes in all the other sounds. Tearing their way through everyone's consciousness. And the fire still burns.

“Mikey? Mikey, I know you can hear me, Mikey. We're going to get you inside okay?” I know that voice. I know it...


“I'm here, Mikey.”

“The guns... The fire.”

“There's no guns, Mikey. It's fireworks, remember?”

“No...No. Fire! Ray! Ray, Get down! They're going to kill us! RAY!” They're firing bullets, red-hot bullets that burst into a million colours. I watch my buddies drop down in piles of flashing light. Their burning bodies topple down and explode into millions of pieces. I can hear them leave. A whistle as their spirit's disappear forever.

“Mikey? I’m still here. Mikey, Can you hear me?”

“Ray? Where's Frank?”

“He's dead, Mikey.”

“Where's Gerard?”

“Gerard's dead too.”

“My brother...When? Which bastard killed him, Ray? You tell me!”

“Fourty-two years ago, buddy. He was killed in Vietnam.”

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