I am currently in a state of paranoia. My body feels heavy; I cannot move my legs at all. I tried moving my arms and I saw a glimpse of my hands, it was drenched in a viscous red. As I try to regain my senses, I realized that lay on cold concrete. I set my eyes on the sky. A blinding light assaulted my eyes. I guess it was still noon. I cannot distinguish the totality of my surroundings, but I’m sure I am on the middle of a road. I tried to breathe in air, but my chest hurt. As I was about to ask myself to what was happening, I remembered something.
I was about to die.
Suddenly, a sound then reverberated. It was loud, and it sounded like something from a gun. Yes, it was gunshot. I felt chills; as a result, it further amplified my agony. I know I am on the queue. I tried to pray and recall my happy memories, but it was too late. My vision suddenly darkened as a shadow of a man I can’t recall blocked my field of vision.
“It will always come to this James. You can’t change the future. You will always fail to change the outcome of this world. You will, whichever, whatever you do, still die.”
Hah. It seems like I’ve heard that phrase a hundred times now. But this time, I think I will never hear it again. I wish.
The man then cocked his gun at my temples. He takes a deep breath and slowly, pulls the trigger.
When you are in the process of dying, everything seems to set in slow motion. It’s cool. It’s just like a movie, hearing and seeing every detail of your remaining 0.5 second lifespan. It must be because I have experienced this, over and over again. But still, I know, this will be the last. Well, I am hoping, really. What I have done all in this past days is useless after all. Nobody would come to my salvation. I can’t do anything. I just can’t. As I lavish my thoughts over the matter of slowly going to heaven, everything just stopped, literally.
Oh no, not again.
Crap. I couldn’t force myself to finish a story. So, I’m writing another one. To the hell with indecision.