Chapter Text
“To die, to sleep— To sleep—perchance to dream. Ay, there’s the rub! For in that sleep of death what dreams may come…”
– Hamlet
I shouldn’t have done this. I should have been smarter. I should have gotten out while I was still ahead. That’s what my Momma told me. Now she’s dead. And I’ll join her soon, in the hereafter. Only Jesus and the kingdom of Heaven can judge me now.
Him and this monster of a man, I s’ppose.
I lay in a cold dark room. I can feel how many ribs I have broken. My left lung is collapsing, I can barely breathe. My mouth tastes like metal. And I’m bleeding all over.
I hope Momma has her eyes closed up in there. Don’t want her to see me like this. I hope she can remember me as her rosebud boy.
Things could have been so much easier if I stayed that way. But I had dreams I wanted to chase. Goals at the tip of my fingers. Man isn’t just a living thing, it yearns to prove himself to his fellow men, and to himself. To say: I’m here for a reason, watch me, just watch me and you’ll see.
But Man also dies. I don’t know why I forgot that fact. Then again, so many of us do.
I hear the door creaking open. It’s him. His face covered, his posture calculating and perfect to a scary degree. He can’t be a man too, I refuse to believe it. He’s a monster. He doesn’t yearn, he doesn’t chase after his goals. He’s an empty husk of a man, who kills and kills and kills.
I’m sorry, Stevie. I’m sorry, Jace. I’m sorry, Mark. I'm sorry, Martin. I’m sorry, Mister Healy. I’m sorry for not saving you. I’m sorry you got caught in this mess.
I’m afraid you’ll never know the truth of what happened. And maybe it’s better that way.
The Monster crouches to meet my eyes. I can see a bit of him through the cloth mask covering his face. How is he so calculating yet such a coward? I spare the comments, I’m already in bad shape.
“Tell me, boy: what do you dream of?” asks he.
I can’t speak at all, but if I could I wouldn’t tell him. My dreams of hugging Momma, and my sister, goodness knows where she is, and doing good in California, helping the less fortunate no matter what… those dreams I’ll take to my grave.
Due to my silence, he gets closer to me. “Tell me all about your dreams, where your path leads to from now on…”
I no longer have a path. And I think he knows that damn well.
When he puts his gun inside my mouth, I know that it’s over.
I only wish to be greeted by my Momma’s sweet embrace.