Count to Six and Die

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a short story I have written inspired by the song titled "Count to Six and Die" written and performed by Marilyn Manson. Text in italics are lyrics to the song.

Submitted: December 14, 2007

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Submitted: December 14, 2007

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There was nothing left to love, I was too tired to hate. Instead, I felt nothing. Every emotion I had once felt, drained away over time. I was left as an empty shell, nothing more than flesh and bone. And even that was slowly wasting away in my apathy and drug abuse. I couldn’t even remember what happiness was. It had gone missing for far too long. I no longer cared what happened to me, for nothing could be worse than this. Nothing could be worse than feeling nothing. Like a zombie, I staggered through each day. She’s got her eyes open wide. Every day was exactly the same; I couldn’t see the difference through the drug induced coma that had become my life. I had distanced myself from everyone, even those who had been the best of friends. They made no difference now, I was too far gone. A lack of emotion, an abundance of addiction...there was no saving this soul.
I stared blankly ahead from my post at the band shell; eyes cloudy, vision blurred. The shadows under my lookers reflected the heroin abuse I had been committing. She’s got the dirt and spit of the world. Without interrupting my endless stare, I pulled the last cigarette out of its package with shaking hands and put it to my lips. I sat in silence, cigarette burning away as I shivered violently in the below zero December temperatures. Somehow, I didn’t feel the cold though. I had other things impairing my thoughts. I spiraled gently into that special place in my mind, and the cigarette fell to the ground upon which I, too, sat.
An undefined amount of time later, my body jolted me awake from my semi-conscious state. I could no longer feel my fingers or toes, but then again, what’s just one more absence of feeling? Her mouth on the metal, the lips of a scared little girl. I checked the time on the tattered leather watch that barely clung to my wrist, and reached slowly and numbly into my jacket. Tonight was to be the night where I finished what horror had been started in my life that had once been promising. A game of Russian roulette seemed to be the ideal way to settle my decision. If I were to be lucky in this gamble, I’d take it as a sign, a hint that there’s a reason for me to try this life again. However, in any other circumstance where I was not so lucky...well, then I’ll know the lie I’ve been living and someone else will have the honors of finding my dead, frozen body at a public park.
I loaded a single bullet into the chamber of the pistol that I carefully held between a set of numb fingers. I’ve got an angel in the lobby. He’s waiting to put me in line. I looked out over the park that once held so many memories with a dead stare, and I smiled. A cracked, parched smile, but a smile nonetheless. Stranger still, it wasn’t forced. I raised the pistol in my grip, and spun the chamber several times, knowing that this was it. This was where I was to be reborn, or where I was to die. I won’t ask forgiveness, my faith has gone dry. I heard a noise in the background of my thoughts; a loud whistling, then an explosion. I looked out over the lake, and saw that they were fireworks, in celebration for the New Year that would begin in just a few minutes. Momentarily, I stared into the colors that erupted in the night sky. Then I raised the gun to my mouth, and pulled the trigger. And it spins around, 1...2...3.
Nothing happened; just an empty chamber. And so it was for the next three shots. And we all lay down, 4...5...6. I placed my finger over the trigger for the last time. I knew that this shot would decide what I couldn’t, and I was almost sure that I was going to die. There are pretty high odds stacked against a single player in Russian roulette, but I wasn’t scared...I didn’t feel anything, really. But that’s no surprise. I stared into the fireworks that signified the beginning of the New Year; another chance, another year to turn things around, a new beginning, and a fresh start. Then I pulled the trigger.
 
Click.
 


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