A Man, His Magnum, And the Bullet A Short Story

His Four Reasons Why

A man walks into a bar, it sounds familiar right, well my story is nothing but unfamiliar. I wanted to get wasted, ease the pain y’know, but my dumbass let the whiskey bottle run dry, ‘and I wasn’t even drunk off my ass yet, just a bit tipsy.’ Well, I couldn’t go without hitting my fill as I told myself. So I grabbed my shitty shoes, my ragged coat, and my hat so ruined even fuckin rats would be embarrassed to wear it. I go to grab my keys next but then my drunk ass remembers, that fuckin ugly bitch of a wife I had “needed” it for child support, Chris is only fuckin 2 for crying out loud. But I remain calm as I always needed to. As I fix the lapel of my coat I grab the one thing I seldom ever carry, a .45 magnum with one bullet in it. I grab it slowly, and look at it funny, I wonder how big a hole it would make in my head, I told myself before putting it in with my other shit. I open the big fat cedar door and I was greeted with the cold night air on my hot face. The sounds of the whimsical night I hear are beautiful, the sounds of a cop's sirens, a dog barking before being quieted if you get what I'm saying, and the gorgeous sound of gunfire. The sweet aroma of raw sewage with a hint of gunpowder. Couldn’t have asked for a more perfect night to go on a stroll to the bar. Lucky I, the bar was only 3 blocks away but I still got to see the great nightly entertainment, a homeless fellow being beaten for existing, the shadow of a guy beating his girlfriend or wife or some shit through a window, the police pushin' a minority to the ground before arresting on what is probably no charge, oh no the world couldn’t be more perfect. So, later I finally made it to this damn bar, Bar-15, just in time too, the sign outside says no new guest after 12, lucky me. Unluckily, I’m too poor to enjoy a good drink, but these shots of fireball and rotten tequila get the job done. So, it's now 1 and the bartender asked me to leave or something, lucky for him, I'm not the angry drunk type, so I just asked to buy a whole bottle of tequila that was left, but I’m no bitch so I get a bottle of Dulce Vida Blanco, a 100 proof alcohol, using all the money left I had to my name. After some drunk talk with him that I don’t remember I make my way out walking with my hat in my left and my bottle in my right. Welp, let us not forget what I said about myself, I’m a dumbass, and this dumbass dropped the damn bottle on the pavement. I’ve never seen so much glass on the ground before it was kinda mesmerizing until it came to me, I’m currently watching the last twenty-nine dollars I had on the ground. If you knew me personally then you would know I’m not one to let things go to waste, now am I? So pathetically, I kneel on the cold and solid concrete and I had begun to drink my liquor. Now amongst the taste of gravel, blood from the glass slicing my tongue, and the nasty pavement itself, I got to have a good drink. After a few minutes of lickin’, I get about of the liquor I can salvage. I stand up slowly as all I taste now is the odd taste of glass mixed with the odd taste of fresh blood. I would cry but what's the point if no one else would hear? Just then I see an odd sight, amongst all these enormities I see one beautiful thing, a young couple likely 17 or 18 just 5 younger than me holding each other, laughing as they walk down this sketchy street. Maybe the world isn’t that bad, just maybe? Nah, one spark of humanity like that isn’t enough to light the campfire now is it? Welp, after reaffirming my hate for the world, back to the ‘tenement’ building I went. Once I got inside I didn’t even shut the door, there was no point anymore. I lost the one person I loved, and not that bitchy wife, I lost all my property due to that same bitchy wife, Hell I couldn’t even afford a good drink no more. The cruelties of the world won’t stop knocking on my doorstep like a fuckin Jehovah's witness. Just now, a young couple, they were heading towards the east side of this god-forsaken town, the guy is probably dead trying to protect his girl from those savages, and those savages are probably either put her 6 feet down or are taking their sick fucking reward. As the thought exits my mind I think about how I may, maybe, could have helped them or something.

The Cold Metal Thingy

Do you ever get those moments when your life flashes, no? Well, that's too bad, it's fun, let me explain the steps to you. Step One: Have a Mental Break Down. Everyone has them at one point, right? Just have a traumatic event or lose everything you ever had, want a really good breakdown, become lonely, it's great being lonely. Step Two: Grab a Gun. I recommend a gun as hangin’ yourself or drowning or death in another way is painful and too risky. A gun is a great thing to die by, I swear. To me, the but gun is a revolver, get the blood flowing playing Russian Roulette. A shotgun’s fine but if you want an open casket get a revolver. Step Three: Put the Damn Thing in your Mouth. Now lots of pussies pussy out on this step but trust me you need the full experience. Step Four: Grab a Bullet and Load the Gun, (Every step from here on only applies to revolvers). After completing these 4 steps congrats, your life should be flashing, and all your memories should be reappearing. Here’s how I put my 4-step process into plan. Step One: Have a Mental Break Down - - as I sit there I begin to weep, my past mistakes, my past as a whole reappeared in my mind. Just then the thought of what happened to that happy couple made the weeping worse. I cried and I cried till the tear ducts hurt from the number of tears rolling out. The reality of my life finally hit me, the failure I am finally hit me. So I move on to Step Two: Grab a Gun - - I reach down, feeling my pocket till I pulled out my .45 magnum and I stared. I stared at this gun like it was a car and I was the deer. Step Three: Put the Damn Thing in your Mouth - - well this car must have had its brake lines cut since it didn’t stop coming, and I didn’t stop starin’. I stared until the next thing I knew this car was in my mouth. The cold metal barrel pressed on the roof of my mouth as I tongued the under-barrel. My hand trembling with fear, and the thought of taking my own life scared me, I seldom get scared, but I’m no pussy, I'm just a crybaby since the waterworks started again. Step Four: Grab a Bullet and Load the Gun - - I grab the single .45 AP bullet and stick it in the chamber. I decided to do the only logical thing before I die, play a game. I give the chamber a good 5 spins before pressing it into place. I don't think I cried even this much as a baby when I was born, the world in front of me is already disappearing due to the tears clouding my eyes but the feeling of regret, animosity, and fear are even worse. The tremble in my hands is even worse than an old lady trying to put thread on a needle. I’m crying and crying and crying and crying then bam. All is lost I pull the trigger and this is the end, the end of life, of the world, the end of the state of mind. It's quiet, I stopped crying, I’ve accepted my fate of death. I pulled the trigger there is no going back. It's over. CLICK. I’m alive, holy shit, I’m alive. I look around to see the world around me the gun is on the floor. I survived. The game is over. I’m fuckin alive. Huh, I could’ve sworn. . . The man turns around to see his lifeless body lying still on the ground his brain matter outside his body. The man drops to the ground, the regret of taking his own has just set in after he just got a new aprication of life. “It’s over,” he thinks to himself. “I failed even at death, I really was the ultimate failure.”

Other Notes

If you’re having suicidal thoughts or a loved one is having suicidal thoughts. Call 911 or 988 (the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline) or go to the emergency room.