I wanted to post this last night when I was at the airport in vegas but I almost missed my call to board the flight while doing so . . .
This is a result of, well, as close of the definition of 'nightmare' as I had in nearly ten years. Tell ya what, I was disappointed in not finishing the dream (I tried but instead got some wearied little mermaid dream . . .) but I think it was a good thing I didn't 'cause if I didn't wake up, I think I would have died. Creepy . . .
Ok . . . I altered it, instead of me, it's one of the guys (choose whom ever you like it to be, I had no intention for any particular turtle). Enjoy!
-Gunshot-
I got shot and no one knew I was still alive. Bleeding from my chest, chest on the deck and my head turned, right side in blood. I feel so alone-empty- and oddly warm; no pain, and my face is sticky from blood, and now I can't breath right, staggering breaths. Don't' move me, I'll die! Get help, still alive! No death, not yet, can't, don't feel it-death- I feel alive as ever but I… I can't breath right, staggering breaths, shorter but not pained, kinda like drowning; am I drowning in my own blood or is there a hole in my lung(s) from the bullet wound? No! I will not die, not like this!
He lifted one of the shotguns and I thought that he was going to kill the other man, after all, he was a ruthless leader in his organization. He would do anything to keep his position and title. But he didn't . . .
The taller man, the one that was in control, picked up the other shotgun from the window cell and turned so that I could see his face (he looks like Barbossa from Pirates of the Caribbean . . .). Strolling over to the middle of the cabin (weather it belonged to a boat or one of those log cabins in the middle of the woods, I don't know) and I boldly stepped forward to meet this man (what my intent was I haven't a clue). He placed the wooden, almost toy like rifle down, butt of the rifle placed on the deck with the barrel and sight held tight in his large hand while slinging the other over his right shoulder; the butt in his free hand while the barrel faced a window to my right.
Leaning in for emphasis (why, I still don't know, or maybe I just don't remember) I met the man's gleaming, mischievous eyes with a glare of my own, my mouth starting to curve into a frown, no wait, I think it was more of a snarl. He just stood with arrogance and authority, smiling back, rotting and gold covered teeth protruded from the left side of his face while that gleam just stayed there. For all who noticed it would have baked away, ran and hid for it meant death for all who were in his gaze. I didn't care because I was going to give him a piece of my mind (what that was, I have no recollection, I think it's because of the stress my body is under at the moment).
As I leaned in just a little more, the barrel of the rifle planted its self on top of my plastron. I knew then, no, long before I made my approach, that I was going to get shot, I was going to die. Why I still did what I did is beyond me, I just had to do it, it was meant to happen.
I wanted to let him know what was raging though my mind but I never got the chance because as soon as that barrel touched my body I knew then that it was all over. I probably had time to move but I didn't and in that instant the room filled with deafening thunder as the shotgun fired off a single round. The sound was ear splitting and my body flinched oh so slightly but it was enough to cause the man's smile to broaden.
The initial feelings of 'fuck, he shot me!' Then 'fuck, he shot me', 'I'm going to kill you', to 'oh damn, this can't be the end!' 'I am going to fight this. You'll see, I'll survive. I'm not going to die', and then there was 'wow, there's no pain'. I mean, I felt something when it first went in but my adrenaline is pumping and I can't feel a thing but I guess I can describe it as being hollow, but just in the hole of the bullet entry.
All this was thought in less than a second but it seemed like it was much longer. I wanted desperately to say something to this man before I collapsed but nothing came out. I stood for two seconds after he shot me, blinking, dazed. After that, a third second passed by, my breath left me and I started to see the room become twisted, melted together in to mixed colors and swirls but the man all ways stayed clear in my ever descending vision. Initially I started my descent by my body collapsing towards the right but then I ended up at the current position I am now in (how I became so my memory fails me yet again).
The blood poured, oozing out underneath me and sadly, it brings me comfort although I knew if I lost too much (like I'm sure I have by now) I would die but that never bothered me. My vision slanted, I can still see him, but just his booted legs (he really looks like Barbossa!). I can tell by the way he stood that he was pleased (does he really think that I am dead? Idiot . . .) and then he picked up the rifle that had shot me and strolled out of the cabin, soon followed by three cowering men (probably thinking that they might be next. Cowards!)
Well, time to get up . . . Something told me that I shouldn't. But I'm fine. This something told me I'll regret it so I stayed and here I am now, still lying on this damned wooden floor, probably going to bleed to death. But that same something told me that help was on the way and was coming as fast as they could.
They . . . That has a nice ring to it, I think to my self as I lie her in the here and now. The helplessness is overwhelming but oddly calming. Breathing is becoming more strenuous but I can wait, I'll survive, that I am certain.
Sorry about the crudeness of my 1st ff; I was in a hurry to rewrite it before I went off to Vegas.
Any how, love ta here from ya!!
