Thursday

Judgement Day by Thom J. Wallace (251 Words)


Sometimes I think it would just be easier to end it all. To load a gun, to point, to shoot. To end the misery and tedium of everyday life. I've been thinking about it for some time now. I've done a lot of research on the Internet about guns and ammunition, about handguns versus shotguns, about the types of ammunition to buy. It's taken a few weeks and a lot of being very careful around my wife, but I'm finally I'm ready to finish things; I'm finally ready to end the misery.

I think if I'd had a manual job then I'd have a better appreciation of the engineering that has gone into making the gun. The smooth satin finish of the walnut stock or how perfectly circular the barrel is as I squint to look down it. But I've never been very good with my hands. I've got a desk job and so things like how lightweight it is or how smooth the bolt action is are lost on me. To me this is just a means to an end. It's a killing machine.

I couldn't for one minute tell you what any of the numbers mean now but I gave every bit as much thought to what goes into the gun as the gun itself. The shells are 2¾ inches in length and they each contain 16 pellets. Maximum effect. The gun itself can take three rounds with a fourth loaded into the barrel but I think if I can't make one shot count then I'm clearly not doing this right.

So I've got my gun, I've got my ammunition and it's loaded. I think I'm ready. Having always been the diligent worker I enable Out of Office on my email and leave a note addressed to my wife. It simply says "This was something I simply had to do. I'm sorry. All my love, Stuart. x"

I sit at my desk for what will be the final time and take a couple of deep breaths to look at the knickknacks I've gathered over the years; the paperweight from the Seychelles, the letter opener with the handle in the shape of the lion and the photo of my wife and children. I tell myself again that it will be better for them this way.

With one last sigh I shut my PC down and pick up the gun. I step out of my office and pause at the double doors outside, just for one final moment. Then I pull open the door and raise my gun as I step into the crowded assembly hall. 







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