Diary of a Daydreamer

Psychological Thriller, Take a journey throught the eyes of an addict who quickly delves deeper into the interwoven realms of reality and fiction. Dark Humour.

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20. Laugh, Cry, Live, Die

Trix, Trevor and Sarai creep behind the bar, held hostage by the impending conclusion surrounded by death. The grim reaper is sitting in my favourite stool; he’s grabbed himself a front row seat just in time as the safety curtain raises for this matinee of carnage. Whitey stands in front of the bar, Max is covering the door and Louie stands with his back to the wall.  I appear to be stuck in the middle and begin to shift towards the jukebox. Guns pointed in all directions, we all position ourselves slowly to get the best angle to hit whoever we decide to kill in the imminent Armageddon. Everyone’s eyes rapidly charge back and forth, watching triggers, expressions and movements; watching for any clue that will give away who’s going to shoot first. Louie dares to open his mouth; he demands to know why I killed his sister and how I could dare to bring her head into his bar. Louie’s speech causes Whitey to lose his cool and tighten his finger. Trevor sees this happen and uses his full force to shatter Whitey’s face with his gigantic fist. Countless teeth fly to the floor. Whitey goes down pulling down the trigger on the way. A bullet flies into the jukebox causing a seconds silence before the room lights up and deafens my ears with the grim reaper dancing through the gunfire. Trix, Trevor and Sarai duck behind the bar and find shelter. Before Louie or I manage to pull the triggers, both aimed at Max, Max sends three golden bullets towards Louie. I fire, my bullet must miss Max. I hear Louie yell as he falls down to the ground, lifting his shotgun up and firing a shell at the ceiling, taking a huge chunk of insulation down with it, I pull back the hammer and fire a second bullet at Max, making sure it’s on target. He clutches his chest. A confused look crosses his face. He removes his hand from his heart but reveals no blood, not even a hole where the bullet clearly should be. I didn’t miss twice. Max chuckles. I demand to know why he’s laughing. He asks why I brought a gun full of blanks to a fire fight. Louie gave me this gun. He sent me to battle with a gun that may as well been a water pistol. That explains why Louie never bothered pointing his shooter at me in the shootout. Max has got the drop on me. He can finish me off at any time; even if I had a gun that worked, he managed to shoot Louie who’d been in the heart of war for over five years. I’ve got no chance. I drop my gun and await my fate. Max walks towards me, he fires a bullet. It drives into my shoulder. He laughs like a child picking the wings off a fly. The agony is enough to make an average man cry, but after the torture I’ve been through, it tickles in comparison. As I laugh, I make Max rage. He lift his arm and shoots my kneecap, bringing me to the ground. Now that one hurts. My mind flies uncontrollably through the pain. The past week flies through my mind, I wonder how I got to this point; still not knowing the full story of who killed Lauren. Max gives me the next injection of pain into my chest. With a mouth full of blood I ask for “one more”. Next to death and I ask for the cure. From behind the bar comes an angel, an angel with a Benelli M3 Shotgun. Trixie fires it directly into Max’s chest. He flies back crashing into the jukebox. The music starts playing and the same six songs start looping again. Trixie shoots Max for a second time, making sure he’s dead. The music finally ends. She gets her revenge, she gets her justice.  I’m about pass out; it could be because of the pain, most likely it’s because I’ve lost so much blood that I’m about to die, but I decide to block out the truth just one last time, and I tell myself I’m going to sleep.

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