Prove Your Existance (Chapter One)

Carl was trying not to get paranoid about everything. This was hard to do, because the barrel of a semiautomatic handgun was being pushed into his left temple. What was even more unearving was the expression on the owner of that fine firearm. It wasn't anger, desperation, the smug gaze of a thug, or even the smile of a sociopath. It was boredom. Obviously this clean-cut upper middle class type didn't give a shit whether he lived or became worm food. Carl was a smart kid. He was a college student. Things like this didn't happen for no reason.

He tried to think of what he had done to deserve this while his potential executioner popped the safety in and out. He had messed around with whats-her-face but he had been drunk. They couldn't hold him responsible for that! The click of the safety answered him. His captor looked around aimlessly. Then finally spoke up. Carl braced himself imagining a hackneyed line like: I'm here to deliver a message, or, any last requests?

"Do you do anything, sing, tell jokes?"

"No... I can banter wittily."

"God, I must really be suffering from a lack of imagination."

"Um, what?"

"Well -logically- if your a figment of my imagination I must be in a real slump."

"If I'm a figment of your..."

"Imagination." Carl processed this. The gunman stared at him expectantly.

"But I'm not." A flicker of interest crossed the weary face before him.

"This is something new."

He wondered, was Chet screwing with his head. Did he tell this guy to freak him out. His fear was quickly fleeing, but then there was always the possibility that Chet had found a crazy guy to assasinate him. Heck he might have given some joe psychadelics at a party. Quietly whispering in his ear, planting ideas. This guy didn't look fucked up though.

"Look man, what's you name?"

"Nathan Arcissus. Like any of you would let me forget it."

"Nate if this is all in your head why not say, turn me into a chimpanzee."

"It's not like that. It's more like I'm dreaming."

"So your going to shoot me." He sunk down, giving in. "Because you have nothing better to do on a saturday night."

"Eventually, but then I'll have to think of something else. You conceede that your make-believe?"

"No."

"Well why not make a case for it. Christ, do something."

"Just kill me. There's no way I can convince you."

Nate bit his lip staring off into space. When he looked back his eyes where radiating frustration. His words where clipped. They burned with annoyance.

"What a waste of time. Goodbye."

Carl closed his eyes, swallowed. Waited for the lancing pain quickly followed by nothing at all.

"It's only two in the afternoon! How am I going to kill that much time? Stop being such an asshole and entertain me."

The gun left it's place at the side of his head. Carl took a moment to breathe. It was the best lungfull of air he chould remember. He let it go reluctantly. Then he opened his eyes. Nate was looking at him like a busted tv, gun hanging forgotten at his side.