Blood Money

Blood Money
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Stephen BIrd
ABSTRACT [Type the abstract of the document here. The abstract is typically a short summary of the contents of the document.]
Blood Money
I stared back at the house from which I had just left, the ominous feeling of death and despair that was weighing my heart down got stronger and stronger the more I stood there. I couldnt help but feel like I had done something terribly wrong, like I was in the wrong place. I shouldnt be here, it wasnt right, it wasnt right at all! I kicked the post to my left and immediately regretted it when my foot throbbed painfully. I swore under my breath and staggered away from the post. The house stood silently, just watching me, almost mocking me. It was painful and demeaning. I needed to get away from here, but I couldnt! It was as if the remorse that I felt rooted me in the spot, and the promise of the large amount of money I was to be given from the Boss wasnt enough to move me. To remove the pain I felt it would take more than money. I needed consolation; I needed to see her family, to have them forgive me for the atrocity I had just committed. But consolation would never come; I could never face her family. Not without at least going home to mine. The money I was to be given from the Boss for completing this awful job was going towards a wedding for my girlfriend and I, after I proposed to her. She deserves the best, and this job was going to be the opportunity of a lifetime. I could have all the money I ever wanted. I didnt realize money itself could come at a price. Oh the cruel irony! Sucking up all the courage I had, I left the spot that I stood on and began to walk. Not anywhere in particular, just away from the place where I had performed such brutality. As I walked, the memories of the night followed me. Separated, vivid and out-of-context, their voiceless accusing tone penetrated my the depths of my brain. Yet despite how I classed or justified my actions, it all happened and it will follow me around forever, like a bad smell. Like the smell of a rotting corpse. The memories persisted, tearing me apart from the inside out, eating away at my sanity. I couldnt hear my thoughts anymore, the dissonant screams that were projected from her perfect body played over and over in my head. Her eyes filled with fear bored through my skull like a drill. The image of her frayed hair and her torn clothes stuck to my brain. Her mangled, bloody body, strewn all over the room; the bloodstained images
Stephen Bird 10 Miguel
Blood Money pieced through my soul. I killed her! I took her life and stripped her of the dignity of peaceful death! I could never change that fact. I started running, I just wanted the feelings to go away. They didnt, no matter how fast I ran they continued to flash before my eyes, causing me to stop empty the contents of my stomach onto the hard, stone ground. Made of cold stone just like my corrupted, evil soul. I continued to run. Blood splattered walls filled every corner of my mind, flashes of her lifeless face appeared before me, and made me watch as the colour in her cheeks vanished along with her life. Caught up in my thoughts, I didnt notice the man who was walking towards me. I crashed into him and fell on top of him as he crumpled to the ground. Watch it, buddy! exclaimed the man in an irritated tone as he pushed me aside. I slowly got up, and the chaos of the moments past faded away. Until I looked down my hands, and the man looked down at his now bloodstained shirt. As panic took a hold of me, my inhibitions were thrown in the trash, along with the mans life. The feelings and visions returned. I had effectively impaired the lives of two families to support my own, and nothing felt worse than that. The reactions of the families when they found out a loved one was gone forever, added to the overwhelming guilt that had now completely taken over my mind. I couldnt take it. I wouldnt take it! I soon reached a main road and stopped and stared across it. I looked to the other side where I should be, so I could keep aimlessly running through the streets. I couldnt possibly go home now, could I? This was my life, and I knew where it belonged. I looked down the road to see a pair of headlights at the other end. I pulled out my pistol and shot out both of the lights that lit up the street. It was dark, but as it got brighter, I slowly made my way across the smooth, dark road until I was in the centre. I took off my hat, and set down my pistol and my suitcase. I took out a cigar and lit it, taking one last breath of it before the blazing headlights of redemptions snuffed out the dull, flittering candle that lit up my cold, dark soul.
Stephen Bird 10 Miguel

Blood Money

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Stephen Bird 10 Miguel

Stephen Bird 10 Miguel

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