There have been way too many hate crimes out there and too
many people have been killed and hurt. But there have also been many accidents.
Guns are evil things. The people you shoot never come back. Life is not perfect
and that's the way it will always be. So love thy neighbor, please? This story
is dedicated to all killed, hurt or related to in shootings.
~Silver Vaporeon (bookwormz98@yahoo.com)
*******
"Come on, no one will ever know…" he said, trying to make
me give in.
"No…" I said. I knew it was risky. And I knew it was dangerous. "Anything can
happen"
"What are you? A chicken?"
"So?" I asked out loud. Cassidy thought I was talking to her through the
cement wall.
"The latest plan to break out of here? All right, Plan #34 to break out of
here is…me to distract a prison guard (who can resist me?) and you grab his gun
and threaten to blow his head off if he doesn't lead us out of here!" she
giggled, happy about her plan. I swear, the prison food has affected her brain.
My heart and stomach both took a fifty-story plunge. "Gun? Blow his head
off?"
"Yes, Butch. Guns and threating. It's the only Team Rocket way. Besides,
they took away our shovels and all."
Guns…the hateful object that… I clutched my head, tears threatening to
spill.
Beautiful Dreamer
nine years ago…..
My father was stern and his grotesic outer-features would scare the stripes
off a growlithe. But he was a kind-hearted man. All I knew back then was that
he was part of Team Rocket and was caught in a blast of harmful gases, which
permanently altered his appearance. Ok, so he was a kind-hearted man who stole
pokèmon and delivered sixteen death threats everyday. What is there to say? He
was my old man.
One bright sunny day, he was outside in the yard and found a large red
glossy marble. As he picked it up, I watched from the window and saw how pretty
it was when it caught the morning spring light. He smiled and headed inside.
I turned my head and saw Sundance run up to him happily. My father scooped him
up and whirled him about. He wasn't really named Sundance, his real name was
Cole(named after a western bandit, just like I was). But, he was so full of
happiness and sunshine, everyone called him Sundance or just plain Sunny. Sunny
didn't know how to hate and that was why he was so cheerful. He was only about
five or six when it happened.
I scoffed at the happy display. Hey, I was twelve and thought I was too
grown up for that kid-stuff.
"Guess what I got you!" my father smiled as he placed Sundance down.
"What, Dad?" Sundance's big brown eyes gleamed with pleasure. His golden
hair glistened in the sunlight. My father reached in his pocket and brought out
the marble I had seen him find earlier.
"Thank you, Daddy!" and with that, he placed a big kiss on my father's rough
bearded cheek and went to play happily in the corner with his new toy.
"Hey, Butch!" my father called me over.
"What's up, Pop?" I asked, slinking over to him.
He slapped me on the back playfully and I gave a weak grin.
"Son, I'll be going out on a small mission, so watch over your little kid
brother for me, ok?"
"Sure, Pop."
My father thanked me and headed out the door. I turned on my GameStation and
started playing a video game. Soon after, my best friend, Young, came over.
"Yo, Butch," he said as he came through the door and helped himself to some
cookies. He was so close to me that we just behaved as we would at each other's
houses.
"Yo, Young," I replied, not looking up from my video game. Dang, I only
needed one more… "YES! Take that, Slugamester!" I did a small victory dance,
happy to finally beat the whole game.
"Whooptee-doo, man. You wanna do something fun now?" Young ripped open a big
of chips and started cramming them into his mouth. He chewed noisily, chip
crumbs falling out of his mouth like snowflakes.
He swallowed and then said, "I saw your old man walk off. You'd think he
left anything around…illegal?"
"No clue," I replied, shutting off the GameStation.
"Then lets have a look, Butch!" he grabbed me by the arm, still eating his
chips and dragged me into my father's office.
"Hey! Daddy said never to go in there!" Sundance warned as we passed him.
"Shut it, Sunny," Young said.
"Yeah. Zip it, stupid," I added.
Sunny shut his trap, glowering. We should have listened…
"So this is your old man's office?" Young asked. "COOL!"
He started rummaging though a few drawers and found a bunch of keys on a key
chain. He flipped through them and eventually found one that fit the lock on
the suspicious looking large filing cabinet in the corner.
"Wait, he always warned he'd beat the tar outta me if I so much touch that
cabinet," I warmed. Young turned and looked at me.
"Did he ever tell you that there's nothing you can't do?" he fit the key in
and unlocked it. The drawer slid open and Young reached in.
"Whoa…" in his hand was the coolest looking gun both of us had ever seen. Of
course, we never really knew names of the guns back then so we just decided it
was a cool looking hand gun. It was sleek and shiny, like a new toy. I guess I
shouldn't have been so mezmerized by it; I've seen plenty of high-tech guns my
father took with him on his trips. But this was the only gun I've actually
held. I liked it. I reached in the drawer and found some bullets that fit.
"Yo, Butch. Why don't we go and shoot off a few rounds somewhere? My old man
taught me how to fire a gun. No one would ever know!"
"Well…" I was debating weither to follow him or my father's warnings.
"Come on, no one will ever know…" he said, trying to make me give in.
"No…" I said. I knew it was risky. And I knew it was dangerous. "Anything
can happen"
"What are you? A chicken?"
I recoiled. "No one EVER calls me a chicken. Lets go."
We passed Sundance on our way out, who was still playing with that dumb
marble.
*****
"Come on! Give it to me!" I yelled. Young shot off a few more bullets in the
empty warehouse. The echoes bounced forever in the void. There were only a few
bullets left and Young never let me handle the gun, saying I didn't know how to
handle it.
"You'd probably take both our heads off," he had reasoned.
"GIVE IT!" I lunged and we squabbled over the gun. Amazingly, the gun didn't
discharge like in the movies. We heard voices from outside and so we ran for
our bikes hidden in the bushes and we took off.
About a mile later, we happened to pass by old man Thompson who ran a small
store in our town. He was the crankiest, meanest person we knew and didn't like
kids too much.
We decided to stop there and rest a bit.
"HEY!" we soon heard his familiar voice. "No loitering!". I checked my watch.
We had only stopped for three minutes…what an idiot.
"Go on or buy something! Don't dawdle in front of the store!" Thompson
clearly wasn't having a good day.
We went in, hoping he'd shut up. But we "took too much time" deciding which
candy to buy. I was so mad. We were the only costumers in the store and he
acted as if there was a whole line behind us!
"All right, get out," he spat, starting to get from behind the counter to
chase us out. Young whipped out the gun and pointed at his head. Thompson
froze. He reached down for something, maybe another gun or a button to alert
Officer Jenny.
"Uh uh," Young said. He cocked the gun.
"Take anything you want," Thompson was shaking. It scared me. But still, we
had authority over HIM for once. It was an unavoidable feeling of joy..but
there was an unavoidable fear about this new power. His request caught Young by
surprise though.
"Umm…give me all your candy! And some baseball cards! And maybe some
cigarettes."
"But you're underage, I can't possibly-"
Young took a step closer. "Well, dead men can't sell anything, can they?"
Thompson put the requested items in a bag and we took it.
"You know you aren't going to get away with this?" Thompson said.
"Dead men tell no tales." Young pressed the barrel on the man's forehead and
pulled the trigger.
Click
Young laughed like a maniac and we both left the old man in shock.
*****
"Where have you been?" Sundance asked. He was on the kitchen counter,
fingering his marble.
"None of your business, Sunny," I said. "But we got some candy an' stuff and
we'll share or something'.
"Okay."
"Can you believe that idiot? He thought the thing was loaded! That was
cool," Young gloated.
"Come on, I'll clean the table and we'll split the stuff, but after that,
you have to give the gun back to me. My dad is going to be so pissed."
"Fine," he said. I turned my back.
I heard him imitate the part where we freaked old man Thomson. He was
probably telling Sunny what had happened.
"Dead men tell no tales," he said. The gun suddenly fired.
I whirled around. My heart stopped as what I saw next happened in slow
motion.
A red marble fell like a cold stone to the ground….
A smoking gun hit the carpet….
******
Cole "Sundance" died later that day. The bullet had pierced him in the
heart; Young never knew the gun was still loaded. My father was devastated and
he disappeared a week later. No one knows where he went or what he did. I was
left alone to defend for myself.
As for me….well, I think back to that brother of mine; happy and carefree.
His life ended so fast, like a flickering candle flame- a happy flame that
never knew how to hate. I still live on, but still so empty inside. Young ran
off that day, and never came back. That slimeball-
"BUTCH?!" Cassidy called. I had not responded for a while and she thought I
had dozed off or something. "The guard is coming to let us out for dinner. Get
ready."
I sighed, hoping to reason with Cassidy later.
"Come on, idiot-" the guard stared at me. I stared back we both withdrew in
shock.
"YOUNG?!" I croaked.
"BUTCH?! What the hell are you doing here?!" Young was so surprised that he
started drawing out his gun.
Not again, you slime! Never again!
Immediately, I grabbed for his gun and pinned him to the ground.
"You son of a- I'll so kill you for what you did!" I screamed with fury.
"Butch! What is going on?" Cassidy's distant voice seemed concerned. Never
in our partner relationship, had she seen me so distraught or emotional.
"Butch, please…" Young begged. I took the gun, cocked it and aimed for his
head.
"Butch! We have to move!" Cassidy said, eyeing around the halls.
I wouldn't heed. I could finally avenge Sundance's death…my family's
suffering would be over…my finger tensed up on the trigger. Young's gray eyes
were squeezed shut, waiting for the end to come.
I suddenly relaxed and flung the gun away. I kicked Young in the chin when
he didn't respond. Young looked at me in surprise.
"Even the likes of you…I'll spare you…so you may live with the shame and
guilt of what you've done to my family and you have all your life to think
about it," I said, walking away from him.
I know Young was probably staring at me the whole time Cassidy and me ran
down the hall and into the sewer system, appearing again about 2 miles outside
the prison. As Cassidy and I took our first breath of freedom for a long time,
I remember Sundance. I also remembered Young, that rude once-best friend I had;
and wondered why I let him live. It was because of Sundance; who loved instead
of hated and forgave instead of holding grudges; and even he wouldn't want
Young to die for his mistake. He was always such a dreamer.
I had expected Young to try to stop us.
But he never said a word; and that's how it should and always will be.