Imperfection is what I was, what I will ever imperfective shell of a man that could have been a billionare if he had just bit the bullet, clenched down the metal until he either dented the hull or cracked his teeth and jaws. The legacy that I'm leaving; pitiful old man to the most notorious methamphetamine kingpin, is something I should be ashamed of but I'm not. Never was. I valued myself because of this. As a result, I became imperfect.
New to what I am feeling now, since my self exile, was not pity or anger. It wasn't resentment or regret, it was peace; peace of mind that was only available when I was inside of the lab, any lab to be honest, where it was just me and Jessie cooking methamphetamine either quietly or something brought up a awkward conversation between us. Like how are we going to ship this out? Those were the days; just starting out in the business.
Now, I am alone. But I am not lonely, quite the opposite of that, everything I did was not for me. The final cobweb of a lie, the final mind I corrupted in my quest for power. I did it for the money to give my family, to feel like the breadwinner instead of the old teacher who can't even afford to not work at a damming carwash and be jittered at highschool teenagers who will eventually depend on their family's money just to buy more of MY METH!
All of my ties are loosened, I have no more rope to tug on- no more lies to give anyone, myself included- anymore and that's my fault. I tore apart my family with the claws of lies and the teeth of sin, I was the reason Hank and Gomie were killed, I pushed Jessie Pinkman to the brink of insanity, Jessie being tortured by the Neo-Nazis - The death of Gus and Mike labeled my impending doom. I deserve this.
I have no one to hold my hand as the pain in my side slowly crawl up my abdomen, I couldn't breath. My lungs worked furiously to get oxygen in my blood system, my heart pumping like a piston to make up for lost color. I secretly hoped this was just another one of my imagenations; that I wasn't a Kingpin, I wasn't cookie pure methamphetamine for the last two years, that I didn't lie to my family again and again, that I never met Jessie Pinkman outside or school; much less in that drug raid.
The funny thing is, I can't feel him anymore. There is no Heisenberg to comfort me, only the late Walter White who sold his soul for importance; only for power. I was greedy, and the harsh reality of my choices and conciquences crashing around me blindly when I finally realised I was just cooking method. I was just breaking bad, I decided to be power hungry and popped more bullets than I had in my magazine.
"Agh..." I moaned, the pain started to creep into my chest. Numbness followed suit as I finally figured out which part of my body the bullet entered my body and will soon be my demise, don't with Hisenberg; he died when that knife slashed my palm. The memory stopped my searching as I can still see the scar on the side of my hand, the echo of how far I killed our family.
"Heheheh..." A chuckle begin to rise in my chest, pained smile forming on my lips; do you fancy me mad?"I tore my family apart... Hahaha... HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! OH GOD! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
A strained and huffy hysterical crossed my, Heisenberg's punctuated lung. I was no longer here... Once more I felt a vortex of hopelessness, sorrow, and vexation curse me once more, the same cocoon that birthed the final form of Heisenberg. My laughing seemed that of a horribly funny joke, like my entire adventure was just one big practical joke. Tears sprang to my eyes as the pain in my lungs inflamed, but my laughing continued.
"Don't move! Albuquerque Police!" Sirens flared in my ears, my hysterical laughter increased as I collapsed in my pooling blood. If I could see my eyes, I would think of mys- Heisenberg- a rabid dog. A mad mad dying as he is filled with dopamine, none of the dopamine receivers closing, and spilling blood like he spilled liquid tomatoes sauce all over a kitchen floor.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Insanity was no longer with me, I was rejected from the danger zone and the safe haven, "Albuquerque! We had great great chemistry! Hahahahahahaha! The sky is always pure! Hahahahahahaha!"
"Ten-Four, multiple casualties. We got one survivor." Turning to my side was a team of SWAT teams, black and blue suits with HK416 machine guns trained at my head, all ready to open a firing squad on me. The eyes of theirs stood fear of my crack puns, probably about stories of Heisenberg's genius way of getting away with practically everything which varied from murder, grand larceny, kidnapping on two accounts, oh! And cooking methamphetamine!
"We got Heisenberg," That was all I heard before I felt blinding pain in my side as he tried to roll me over, I screeched shrilly. His handcuffs already clipped itself blood sealing tight on my wrist, now he is trying to roll me over with a obvious gunshot wound in my side. This guy is trying to cause me pain.
"We need an ambulance, A.S.A.P!" The captain released me, I didn't have the strength to recoil as he cripped my side harshly. He cuffed me to a pipe, causing me to lift my left armband expose the gunshot.
"You destroyed my daughter..." The captain hissed in my ear, making sure the cuff was turning my fingertips a shade of purple. "You should have never been born!" The rest of the squad looked at me in disgust and satification, like they were mentally crucifying me onto a nailstriken cross with poison lased thorns as a crown ony head; all hail the fucking king.
"One out of every ten people is born to give the other nine trouble,"I replied sneakily, still laughingly mocking the SWAT officer. The captain decided that he had enough, uncuffed the one pipe, forced me to sit up and dragged me to a pipe intersection, he sung the cuffs over the top of the X shape and raised my right arm, he then tightly cuffed me.
I couldn't breath, I tasted copper in my mouth; I was choking on my own blood and the SWAT team knew it. They chose not to save me, conicidentally the same way I chose to let Jane to choke on her own vomit; watching with a grim but relieved smile.
"Walter!" Hank's voice rang out, I couldn't turn my head... Too tired...
"Mr. White..." Jane's voice...
"Heisenberg!" The rival dealers...
"Ring, ring," Hector Salamanca
"Mr. White..." Gustovo Firng
"Mr. White..." Mike Ermantraut...
"Mr. White..." The neo-nazis...
"Heisenberg..." Lydia Rodarte-Quayle...
"Walter!" Jack Welker.
"You're the danger, Heisenberg..." Walter White...