The Dark Night

I am still standing. I have not done this to myself in years. I took out this semi-wet cigarette from the coat pocket of the guy lying in front of me. I light it up and the smoke does what it has to. It dries up the insides of my mouth and causes a burning sensation near the vocal cords. But right now the burning sensation is overwhelmed by the pain in my belly. I'm still standing tall. He should have shot me in the face. The goons these days... they have the least knack of getting the job done. I convince myself that I have won. The bullet wound in my stomach is about to spill my guts all over the dirty alley. The last time I was in this alley I was not perforated. I was walking tall. I was insane. I was angry. The whimpers from the asshole I destroyed tonight break my chain of thought. Shut the fuck up ! I advise Mr. Not-So-Good. I am calm. My voice seems a bit harsh, but I'm okay. I'll make it through this shit... I tell myself in the back alleys of my mind. The man lying in front of me is crying like a chick cries after a rape. Spineless fool.

Five minutes ago I entered the Sex-Toy Bar to settle an old score with this fool. Turned out that the fool had upgraded. He now carried a Barretta in his coat pocket. Before I could punch him to the ground he managed to lay a few shots in my belly. I could have capped his ass any minute but I wanted him to suffer; and there he was lying in the dirtiest alley of NYC, crying like a worthless bitch. The barretta was now in my left hand. My hands were drenched with blood. Mixed blood, some from the gunshot wound in my belly and rest from the gums of the man lying in front of me. He must have lost twelve of his precious teeth in the battering I gave him three minutes ago, that is, before I dragged him out in the rain, into the back alley of the cheapest bar in NYC. It takes me nearly five minutes to finish a cigarette; but tonight was different. I did not have much time. I had seen the bartender pick up the phone as I was dragging this low-life bastard out of the bar. He must have called 911... That means that the cops would be here any minute now. I throw the cigarette into the nearby drain. I focus. My right hand was free now. I held the gun with my left hand and pressed it over the wound tightly. I focus.

You piece of shit, how do you want me to finish you off ... I said looking at the drain. Dont kill me please, I am sorry for your wife, for your kids, I am sorry for all that and more ... please dont kill me. I will be your slave for life.... He sobs. Its of no use now. He is as good as dead. He knows it better than anyone else. Now its time to take away his most precious thing. I muster up courage, but I'm still standing. The pain shoots up to my head, my eyes hurt. But the rain doesnt stop. I take the gun in my right hand, covering my hole with the other. My own hole. My only drawback. The alley light flickers. I point the gun at the man's groin. He is too beatup and too afraid to move. He closes his eyes. Look at me asshole, look in my eyes. I scream. Please dont shoot me ... I will... er... BANG ! ... Ohhh... fuck... you fucking bastard you shot me in the dick ... asshole....fuck you... fuc.... ack..... aaaahh.... He is in pain. I took away from him what makes him a man. I love it, I love the cries and the blood all over the alley from his 'love machine'. You deserve this you fool ... you earned it. Ha ha ha ... I throw the gun away. I am stumbling, not much time left. The pain has become unbearable now, but the joy of seeing the fucker suffer is overpowering me. Time to finish the job ... I am still standing.

I grab his cheecks with both hands. My wound oozes out blood. Mixed with the dirty rain it hits the drain. Time to die, mother fucker. I bang his head into the wall behind him. It hits him so hard that his cry turns into a fade out sequence for a gothic rock number. His head has a big visible crack on it. Rain makes it even more clear. The wall behind was strong enough. The bastard suddenly stopped screaming and whimpering. Silence. I am still standing.

I had got the job done. I lose balance. Fall down and station myself near the dead goon. The rain had almost stopped as if marking the end of my mission. I smile. I still had a cigarette left in my pocket. The low-life smoked such cheap cigarettes... one drag couldnt have done the job, not even for mother teresa... I have two options now. Drag myself to the clinic nearby for first aid and a chance. Or, stay here and wait for the cops. I had seen a TV News report a few days ago, praising the prompt action of the NYPD. I hope they are prompt. I choose option two. Suddenly the sounds from Who wants to be a Millionaire ? play in my head. I smile. Correct answer Max they tell me. I light up the cigarette. I hope this is not the last one in my life. I will survive. I was not standing now. The pain had taken over the burning sensation again. Somehow the smell of the drenched alley mixed with the smell of blood and gun smoke felt nice. I was at rest. Waiting for the cops. Suddenly I heard the sirens, Finally... come on coppers ... be nice to me ok ? Come and find me quickly ... he he he. I smile again. Then I realize that the darkness rises all around me. I lose sight. Gosh. Not now Max. Hold on ... I hear my wife's voice. Daddy ... stop. Dont go. The darkness deepens. I cant even hear the cars on the road now. The only sound I hear now is the deafening noise of Silence. Suddenly, I feel I am still standing. Somehow ... Darkness prevails.