The Kid and The Killer

A Day in the Life

The high pitched ringing of my alarm clock jolted me awake once again. I hate the fucking thing, but it does it's job. Sitting up I feel my head pounding from the previous night's bender. Turning the clock off I inspect the time. Seven thirty in the morning. I hate waking up this early. Truth be told I hate waking up at all.

Reaching under the pillow I grab my pistol. Baretta M9, standard issue in the military. As my head continues to pound I go through my daily routine of holding the weapon lazily to my head. Like second nature I pull the hammer back. I can't help but think is this day I go? The streets when I was kid didn't kill me. Gang life couldn't kill me. Boot camp, terrorists, or the desert couldn't. Maybe it's better I take myself out. No pain, no torture. One bullet quick and clean.

But like every other morning I put the safety on, and force myself out of my bed. The final thought of the subject leaves my mouth as I go to the bathroom.

"Maybe tomorrow.".
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After my daily existential crisis I headed to the park.

Every morning I do the same thing. Light up a cigarette and feed the pigeons. I like birds. Not burdened by the weight of the world. Free to do as they please. They can pick up and leave when ever to where ever.

I guess you could say I'm jealous, but jealousy isn't the right word. Jealousy would suggest I hate them. I don't I admire them.

Throwing out some more seed to my pigeon friends I see a black bird walk up. It doesn't partake in the food just stares at me.

"Well I haven't seen you before." I say to it. Not like it understands a word I say. The bird continues to stair at me with it's dark eyes. Completely void like a starless night. I'm consumed by it, but I'm not scared. No I'm comfortable. I couldn't tell you how long we were locked in this staring battle. Could've been five minutes, could've been five days.

Eventually though, I think it got bored of me. Without another glance at me, it took some seed and flew out of sight in the sky. Standing from my seat I dump the last of my seed for the pigeons. As I walk away from the park I can't help but chuckle bitterly.

Maybe I am jealous after all.
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Today is a particularly slow day. No work. In my line of work I'm always on call. If someone needs me I have to be available twenty four seven. When there isn't work filling time in the day is a chore.

I don't have a family. At least not a wife or kids. My parents are around, and so is my older sister. Though we're not very close. Not for lack of trying on their part, but they shouldn't have to deal with all my baggage. They wouldn't understand. None of these people know what it's like seeing battle. Going to war. The blood that stains your hands. It doesn't go away. It never does. I'm broken from my self loathing by the sound of a scream.

Stopping in my tracks I see some woman being held at gunpoint in the alleyway. I can't help, but let out a frustrated groan. Nobody is going to help her. The cop's are worthless in this part of the city. These people they won't lift a finger. I hear the kid's voice shouting at the scared woman.

"Do you want your head blown off bitch?" He yelled at her. Without another thought I walk down the alley towards the two. I don't try to be quiet in my approach. It took the kid til I was right up on him to notice me. It was to late though. Grabbing him by the shoulders I throw him away from the woman. Not hard I didn't want to neutralize him. Not yet. Catching his balance he puts the gun right in my face.

"You want to die too hero?!" He yelled at me. I couldn't help the smile on my face. One look in his eyes told me everything I needed to know. He was a coward. He was scared. He was trying to be something he wasn't. I love people like this.

"Go for it sport." I tell him. He's clearly unsettled by my response. In his head he should hold all the power, but he doesn't. I do. He says nothing. That's when I grab his hand holding the gun, and place the barrel to my forehead. "Well come on. Do it!" I scream at him. My voice reverberates in the alley. The dumbass is completely frozen in fear. That's when I rip the weapon from his hand, and shove him down. The weight of the gun tells me it isn't loaded.

"Get lost." I tell the lady. She's still frozen from this punk. "Leave!" I yell. Without a word she flees the alley as fast as her legs could take her.

The punk is looking up at me. The fear in his eyes is delicious. To him I'm the judge, jury, and executioner. All the power he thought he had has vanished completely. I drop the empty gun next to him. The clatter made him jump up in surprise. His voice box magically learned how to work again.

"Wait wait hold on man. That was all a joke. Just a prank. My friends put me up to it." He needlessly began to explain to me.

"Oh it was a joke?" I asked crouched down to his level. Though I didn't give two fucks why.

"Yeah a joke man." He said as if that would make his predicament better.

"You know what the problem with that is though?" I ask him. "I'm not joking." I said pulling my very loaded gun from my waistband. I fire a round in the sky so he knows it's loaded. That's when the tears started falling from his face.

"Oh god." He sobs out. I pull a smoke out of my pocket and light it. I take a deep drag from the cigarette.

"He can't help you kid." I said exhaling smoke in his face. "Let me tell you something." I say getting close in his personal space. The barrel of my gun is under his chin. "I kill people for a living. I know many ways to kill a man. The only reason you're still alive is because nobody's paid me to end you." I tell him. Tears and snot are falling from his face. "Now go home." I say putting the safety back on. "Tell your parents you love them, and don't let me catch trying to be a gang banger again." I say.

I turn my back and leave him there. I think I successfully put the fear of god in him.

I'm not a good man, but I try to be in my own sick and twisted way.