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My Last Day G N
last day
well this is it
i’m going do it this time
threatened often in the past
but this time its for real
all of the arguing and fighting
and the fierce blows all come down to this
why wouldn’t you listen
to the way i felt.
i tried to tell you
time and time again
could it end any other way
who knows, but it wont
i have it all planned out,
first i’m going to dig up my money
which is buried under the shed
my daddy taught me that trick
he said you couldn’t trust banks
then,
im going to get a can
and put gasoline in it
i’ll fill it to the top
careful now i have to have it all
next,
where is my gun?
ah, here it is, under the bed
wipe off the dust
and get the shells
ok, now for the fun to begin
i’ll splash a little gasoline in this corner of the house
where you kept those silly dolls
you always treated them like gold
i hated them
make a trail with the gasoline
into the kitchen
up onto the stove
where you always burnt my bread
i have the jar of money
that i dug up in the shed
i’ll spread a few andrew jacksons around on the floor
and maybe a couple of ben franklins too
into the bathroom with my can and jar
dozens of ben franklins swimming in the tub
douse a lot of gasoline in the toilet area
it always smelled of shit anyway
trailing with the gasoline can
i reach the bedroom
for most people it is a place of rest
but for me it was a place of torture
you slept on your bed
and i on mine
we didn’t have to do that you know
we could have been close
i retrace my steps through the house
spreading money and gasoline
where at one time happiness and meaning converged
but all that is gone now
the can of gasoline is empty and so is the jar of money
slowly i walk to the back room
and sit on the bed
the house is so quiet
in a few more moments i will be gone
i hold the gun in my hand
and put in a fresh shell
snapping the safety off
i feel like my heart is going to leave my chest
i have a book of matches
the ones from a local hardware store
on them is a warning of danger
yeah right
trembling i strike one
it lights
and i drop it to the floor
it goes out before it can reach the fuel
the second match will be the one
i make sure of that
the trembling is gone
now i’m just pissed
i drop the match and the flame is intense
it races through the house and back again
the walls that i soaked are roaring in flames
and my hands are trembling again
i take the gun
and place the barrel to my chest
my finger tightens around the trigger
as the heat from the fire grows
pulling the trigger i feel the shock
and fall back onto the bed
staring at the ceiling
it is covered in thick black smoke
turning my head i look out the window
i scream out your name
come save me
but it is to late
my eyes close in death
here they will find me
the bitter end
of a bitter life
READER'S REVIEWS (5) DISCLAIMER: STORYMANIA DOES NOT PROVIDE AND IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR REVIEWS. ALL REVIEWS ARE PROVIDED BY NON-ASSOCIATED VISITORS, REGARDLESS OF THE WAY THEY CALL THEMSELVES.
"This is very well written. I love the style. Seems like this was written by a bitter old man" -- km.
"I agree with you, this is well written and very personable. Makes you really care about the main character. Is this real? Poor guy!" -- Josh.
"km & josh thanks for the reviews. yes, it is very real. actually this is my grandfather. he took his life a few years back. i tried to put myself in his shoes on his last day. " -- G N.
"I liked the way it was written." -- Emma.
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