16 Shades of Grey and a little Black

This is my second draft of this story. A short story about....well you will find out. I have plenty of stories that I have written before but never published anything. What I need is for you to be brutally honest. Let me know if you like the overall story. Let me know if I suck. Just let me know. This is only the first part. i wanted to give a sample. Test the waters if you will.

Brian

16 Shades of Grey and a little Black.

I was tired when I turned the tv off. Fox News was playing a repeat of the latest Bill O'reilly broadcast, and although I liked Bill I couldn't stand to watch anymore reports on corruption for the day. My government had failed me you see. It was sometime yesterday when it dawned on me that I (that we) were all living a lie. Scandals, secrets, and propaganda have been going on for as long as humans have lived on this earth. In short I (we) are a disease.

Money dominates our system and everything from save the whales to plant a tree are here for the sole purpose of money. Sure there are members of the groups that still believe there is a cause but they just haven't opened their eyes and taken a good look. Money is the reason we still have religions that don't make any sense. Religion is a good industry. Global Warming is a good industry. Go ahead and look it up for yourself it all traces back to someone getting their "fair share."

I picked the pistol up off the table. Freshly oiled and clean as a baby's behind (Sir, yes sir.) It was a 9mm Beretta, and its twin brother laid not far away. I stuck the gun to my head and mimicked a firing sound "Boom, and it would all be over" I said. (Sir, no sir.) But not yet. It wasn't time for me I still had work to do.

I would tell you my name but it really doesn't matter. If you must call me something then you can just call me Gunman, or Lone Gunman. That is what they will be calling me on the news tomorrow.

It doesn't really matter where I live either. I could be your neighbor, your friend, your lawyer, your doctor, your vet, the guy thats looking at you gals take off your clothes through the window. You try to act like hes not there but he is.(Sir? I don't understand sir.) Each one of them capable of what I am about to do. So don't kid yourself, I may even be you.

I was injured by friendly fire in Iraq in 2003. We were clearing a small village that we were taking fire from every night. The guy in front of me never had a chance. He kicked open a door and got a shotgun slug to the face. I knew the guy behind me was jumpy, but I never thought he would open fire with me standing in front of him. His first bullet ricocheted off my sidearm flying straight through the back of my head. It went right through and area of the brain called the Occipital Lobe. No need to look it up, I can feel the Neurologist stirring in your eyes, I will tell you what it does. It controls vision and color recognition. (You report what the Hell is going on even if your dead soldier.)

With the back of my head missing I shot the "insurgent" and took a step towards the soldier without a face, although I could have swore he had one minutes before, and then fell to the ground. I woke up in a military hospital three weeks later. I thought I was dreaming because the nurse that was standing in front of me was talking but I wasn't paying attention to what she was saying. Everything around me was different shades of Grey. Every time she opened her mouth to speak it was like opening a door to a dark room. Grey lips, blackness, Grey lips, blackness, Grey lips, blackness. Everything around me was a different shade of Grey Her shirt was Grey Her nipples were making the fabric of the shirt stick out and that was a slightly different shade of Grey (YOU ARE A DISGRACE SOLDIER, SNAP OUT OF IT.)

I found out later that I had suffered "massive trauma" to the brain. Causing a condition known as Achromatopsia. A rare form of the condition where I lose total color recognition but keep most of my eye sight. Then they informed me that I couldn't stay in the service because of it and booted me out with a disability check and a purple heart. I tried to stay in but they told me I was unable to (worthless) rejoin my unit.

I pawned my purple heart not long after they kicked me out. I needed money to eat. I had to close my eyes when I ate because the color of the food disgusted me. Tomatoes showed up black. A sickening wrinkly black, like dry blood on pleated pants or curtains. Most other foods were Grey 16 shades of Grey to be exact. Science will tell you the human eye can see up to 100 shades of Grey My meager eyesight sees 16. I know because I have counted them over and over.

I have a method of classifying my colors. For instance blood is a 7 on my scale of Grey from 1-16. The white part of an egg is also a 7. One time I cut myself while cutting the peppers for an omelet, I never felt the wound. Maybe there is something more wrong with my brain than I know. The blood dripped in and mixed with my eggs and I never knew it. Until I tasted it. You can't mistake the taste of blood. Coppery, and salty it leaves a very distinct flavor in your mouth. I wretched when I realized what I had done. But in the end I finished my eggs anyway, waste not want not. (Eat faster soldier.)

I looked at the remaining things on the table as I lit a cigarette. The flame glowing a high 10, the one that reminded me of graying hair, on my greyscale. There were four clips for each gun. They were fully loaded and best case scenario I could take out at least 50 people especially the ones that freeze (fight or flight soldier) Those are the ones that are easiest to take out. Like deer in a spotlight.

I had to take as many of these people as I could. I was going to save them after all. I had to save them from this ridiculous excuse for an existence. They would thank me for it on the other side (Fucking sheep) where everyone would see the sickening truth of it all. I put all the extra clips into the pockets of my pea coat I had acquired in the service. It was once black to me. Now a dull 2 on my greyscale, all it did was serve its purpose. I jacked a shell (Tap, wrack, boom, tap, wrack, boom) into the chamber of each gun and laid those on top of my jacket.

I wondered off to my room now. There were no pictures or decorations anywhere on the walls in my house. The walls were a 4 on my scale, the same color of a piece of paper or the naughty stuff (what are you doing young man). Not that we have to go into that. My bedroom had a bed with a wood dresser I made myself but never stained. It had a mirror which I hadn't looked into for years because I had no interest in what I might see. I looked into it now. Even in the dull greys I was seeing, and black where my nostrils were, I could manage a smile. I knew the favor I would be doing so many tomorrow was going to be the ultimate sacrifice. I knew it was right, and for the first time in years I was compelled to pray. I kneeled down on my bed, even put my hands together like a child, and began the lords prayer as I knew it.

Our father who art in heaven hallow be my name. 

My kingdom come, My will be done at the store tomorrow morning. 

Give us this day our super substantial bread. 

And forgive our debts, as we forgive our debtors. 

Lead me not unto temptation, and deliver them from evil.  

I went to bed and slept soundly knowing that tomorrow I would be doing the right thing. I would be saving people and then it would all end.