Hell found me. My heart pulsed as fast as the bullets were being shot. My legs struggled to run efficiently in my jeans, as my jacket flapped behind me. I stumble and and nearly fell but I jutted my hands out just in time to push my self out of the muddied puddle I was destined for. somehow I keep running without missing a beat. Unfortunately the shooter was just as fluent and precise as my luck was continuing to be fortunate.
I hurry around the corner of a building gasping for air, my lungs begging me to quit this death sprint. My arm crosses my chest and goes within my coat, it reappears holding a Beretta. I know I'm a good shot, but I've never been in this situation. I hold the gun with the barrel parallel to my ear pointing up.
I hear foot steps, my mind so flooded with narcotics and overwhelmed with these extreme events; The steps where loud and hollow like a drum, and the sound lingered in my mind like it was under water. A voice broke the silence "Danny, Danny." That's what it sounded like to me, but hell, I couldn't hardly begin to understand why he would be saying that. With every step my pulse quickened, and my breaths grew faster but quieter. The steps were close, real close, you'd think they'd at least attempt to have stealth. Each step was another piece of my sanity leaving me. "Its now or never." I pulled the top of the gun back and held it close to my chest.
I rolled around the corner with trigger pulled, and gun blazing. The gun was powerful and loud, it kicked my arm back but I managed to keep it steady enough to were I knew I had hit my target. Blood sprayed from the bullet holes, my vision was blurred with adrenaline and the drugs. My blood coursed through me as I unloaded on this poor victim. My bullets perfectly accurate even in my stupor.
My mind was calming down, adrenaline was subsiding, the buzz was making it's leave. My vision began to clear and focus, as I became light-headed, I fell back against the building behind me and slid down on to my knees. Tears started to form and my hard grip on the gun grew weak and I dropped it to the ground.
My life couldn't have gotten any lower. A life I had taken, but I had to do it, I'm a drug dealer, and what was worse I was high, really high; the two plastic packs of coke in my coat I could not sacrifice. Plus I couldn't be found dead like this, high, stocked, and a criminal; what would my family think? I couldn't do that to them, I had to do this.
I look down my vision now clearer than ever before, my buzz gone, and adrenaline replaced with fear and sorrow. I see it, a small fake silver gun the side of the gun was open and a red roll was beside it curling up into the gun, and up into the hammer of the gun. Once I realized that it wasn't a real gun shooting at me, I was afraid to look up and see but I didn't have to. The hand by the gun I realized was small and twitching, "Daddy, Daddy." When the words escaped my attacker's lips, the sound so familiar and beyond innocent, my heart sank.
The Words pierced my heart, and my veins felt as if they ran cold. My adrenaline began to kick in again as I heard sirens in the distance. Tears fell as I saw the red luminosity spinning down this forsaken street.
I look up in the pristine darkness, the rain hitting my face. My life now what it is, darkness. I let my hands fall to my sides and back behind me until I feel that gun. That damn gun, the gun that took the life of my only son, my everything. No, I grasp the gun tight and pull it towards me, dragging it across the cement hearing it's nickel plating grind. It's barrel reaches my ear, not pointing up this time. The cars pull up, sliding; some hitting the curb, with their tires squealing in the night.
"Stop right there sir, put the gun down now!" the officer screaming from behind his car door, as he drew his gun and pointed it at me. I looked down, blood mixed with water, innocent blood, a child's blood, time to give the ground some blood of someone wicked, time to give Satan evil blood, my blood. Looking up now, the officer repeating his warning louder and sterner, as the trigger pulled, I heard the hammer rear back and the bang exploded in my mind; I sat up in my bed, sweat pouring from me, my breath short, and pulse quick. I need a fix, now! I open my night stand drawer and down two pills, then I get up and dress for the day.
Light gleamed through the blinds as I ventured through to the kitchen, there he was, my boy, and my beautiful wife, she was putting on his coat. ""Sorry to be on short notice but can you take him to school today sweetheart?" She zipped his coat up and handed him his cap gun he was taking to show and tell.
I smiled and put my arms around her, and bent down slightly to kiss her lips, my safe haven, my mind eased from that nightmare just with her gentle kiss "I love you." I said, she replied with a smile. I looked at my watch, I was late for my "meeting", I picked up my boy and piggy-backed him to the car quickly, as soon as we both were in I quickly pulled out, and took off, "your going to be a little late to school today Kay' buddy?" I looked over and smiled, and he just smiled back.
"Does that mean I get to go to work with you daddy?"
"Sure, we need to stop somewhere for a little while though, first." I said, knowing in my mind that he wasn't going to school, because I have two packages of coke in my coat that are late on delivery, and If you learn anything in this business, you never deliver late. The night was settling in, deep in to the city, quite the drive from the suburbs. I looked over to see my boy sleeping with his head on his NASCAR book bag, with his show and tell toy still in his hand.
The car slowed and stopped in the deserted road. A man with a cigarette and a trench coat was in the corner. My hands shook as I removed my belt and wrapped it tight around my arm. The syringe was inaccurately pierced in to my arm, it eased me. I walked out to the man, he greeted me like usual," heyaz' Danny Boy." But this wasn't usual however," I already called up my associate and told him that there is no deal, so 'I'd think it's bess if you get your punk, stoner self out of e're if you know what's good for ya."
I stumbled as I turned around and fell in to my window seeing my boy jump holding his gun out like he was ready to shoot. I turned and ran hearing the car door open. The lights from the street lamps made me see the shadow of someone behind me, "Danny, Danny." The voice didn't sound right; my buzz was really in effect. I ran around the corner and leaned back against the wall pulling out my Beretta. All of this feels too familiar, the footsteps were close really close they were mocking me. The footsteps were fast and running "Danny, Danny." The voice was shrill and full of fear. I pulled out a container of pills and thumbed the lid off and went to kick back the bottle but I stopped when the voice became clearer, "Daddy, Daddy!" my eyes widened as I pulled the bottle away from my mouth and gazed at it in disbelief, how could I let "this" come between me and my family. I threw the bottle on to the street the pills mixed with the water on the street, I cared not.
The foot steps were right around the corner, I heard another set of footsteps following, I turned the corner and my son's face buried in to my belly as I held the gun outright and the gun kicked back and the druggie I was dealing with was dead, and so was the druggie that my family was dealing with, they'd never see him again. I knelt down hugging my son, keeping him from looking, "Don't worry son, I'm here, I'll always be here for you." The gun I dropped as I entered the car, my son in my lap.
For the first time in years I could look at the review mirror and not see demons swarming around my head, the first time my head didn't feel delightfully heavy, the first time I could look and see who I really was, who I should have been my whole life, my son's father.