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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1760703-Kill-me
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by Karma Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Short Story · Dark · #1760703
A very depressing but true story.
My father pressed the steely cold butt of the gun in my hand and whispered his request with pain in his eyes.
"Kill me..." I had been dreaming of this day. Dreaming of all the ways I could kill him for all the things he had done to my mother, my sister, and to me.
His body, so still, motionless like a rat standing perfectly still in front of a cobra, ready to attach at any sudden movement.
Play by play I pictured how I could get rid of his body. Woodchip it was possible, not to messy. I could always feed him to the pigs, but his blood is so cruel and dark it's probably poison. I finally came to the conclusion. Cutting him up in parts and putting him in bags with bricks so he would sink to the bottom of the lake.
Beating my mother to death, raping my sister to the point she was silenced forever, forcing me to snort this white powder and perform for him or he would beat me just like my mother. No one like him deserves to live.
I pull the trigger aiming to his temple. No blood. No would... No bullet.
Shocked I stool still, he tricked me, I should have known this was way to easy. He jumped up like a cheeta pouncing on a baby zebra.
Pain.
Torture.
Defeat.
I see black, no red. Darkness takes me in and pulls me under water. I know this is the end.
"Hello daughter," we are finally reunited in the most wonderful world I will ever see. She hugs me "wait a little while, your sister will be with us soon."
Then I realized what that meant... She was left with him. Defenseless...
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