Time Of Death 9:01

  One last Christmas. It seems so fitting to be able to say that. It has been one year to the day. Right here in this very house, sitting is this same chair, I made a promise. I made a promise, while covered in my family's own blood, that I would have revenge. Here I am, sitting at the dining room table, fighting the urge to breathe in all of that bottle of gin that is before me. Other than two glasses, it is alone on the wooden surface. He will be here any minute so I won't have to wait long.  Scott is my best friend so I know him well. He is always on time and I told him to meet me here at 8:30. It is 8:25 now. Not long, not long to wait.
  I planned today perfectly. For once it all went just like it should. Every little piece fit right into place. This was not an easy thing to orchestrate. Coming back without looking defeated. I needed to look like I was okay, not fine, but okay. The pain had to be evident, but I had to look oblivious. It was the only way to get him to come with his guard down.
It’s 8:34 now. God every second feels like a year. Adrenaline and anticipation have been coursing through me all day. It makes time slow down to be this alert.
  Finally I see headlights. The dining room faces the driveway so I can see his car coming down it. Audi R8, he is doing better than I had thought. I wait for him to let himself in. We’ve spent too many nights in this old house over the years for him not to know the way. I hear his footsteps coming up the stairs. I’ll see his face in five...four...three...two...one…I flash back.


  Screams, the most awful screams I’ve ever heard. My wife is dead already and my daughter is dying under my hands. Blood is flowing from the bullet holes in her chest. I am the one screaming. Screaming the most horrible sound in life. The sound of death. My daughter has stopped breathing. I cannot tell where her blood ends and mine begins. One moment ago a man was standing in the doorway of the stairs. He had a gun with so many bullets in his hand. We all took them, us such fragile creatures. The hit man turned and was gone as silently as he had arrived. I screamed the pain and anger of a man whose family was murdered. Murdered because of something he had done himself. Time of death 9:01 pm December 25, 2013


  Scott sits across from me. We talk.
“Hello old friend.” He says with his smooth voice. “We all thought you had offed yourself month ago.”
“Sorry to disappoint.” My own voice sounding weak, just as I intend it too. “I thought of it a few times.”
“Its Good to see you man, nothing has been the same since you left. I mean we all understand, it was so horrible what happened. Still I couldn't help but get excited when you called. You’ll get through this buddy, we’re here for ya.”
“I need to get back into it. I feel like I need to get back to work to put all of this behind me.” I lied with a little more strength in my voice so he would  believe me. “Lets have a drink.”
  He nods but I see it. the grin in the corner of his mouth. It’s only the smallest twitch but it is there. He thinks hes won. I pour the gin, keeping my hands on top of the table all the while. Even though he thinks he has gotten away with it, I know he still has his gun.
  Scott is nervous but now is the time to make my move. Not a motion but a sentence. Words I’ve wanted to say every day for the past year. I remind myself to keep my voice from breaking in the anticipation. We knock back the drinks. I don’t have much time now. With a look across the table our eyes lock. I know he can see it in mine; the anger. He shifts his weight in the chair to make it look natural, but I noticed. He has a hand under the table now and is holding his gun.
  “It doesn't matter it’s too late.” I say, my voice finally sounding just exactly the way I wanted it to. “I know, I know everything. I know it was you who made the choice. I know you wanted me out of the business from the start. I know you came to kill me and mine that night, one year ago today. I know everything. I even know that you are about to die.”
  That was too much for Scott. He jumped up and drew his gun. That same gun I had seen this time last year. All six bullets were in me before I could flinch. Like I said it didn’t matter. The poison in the gin had already started sinking in. I knew it was the only way I could get him. We both drink, we both die. I get shot once again but I have my revenge. I see the color drain from Scott’s face, he knows.
  Time of death 9:01 pm December 25, 2014.