My Bane Is Yours
by Patrick Iversen © 2008
His daunting blue eyes glared back at me, refusing to blink, resembling an untamed arctic ocean. His nostrils flared out of fury while his lips pursed as if smothered with lemon juice.
As I watched him sweep the greasy long hair out of his face, I observed healing lacerations on either cheek, which he seems to believe I caused.
Why is he so angry?
Was it really my fault he lost his job? Or because the love of his life ran off shortly after?
I'm worried about him. He's really not a bad guy.
One chain reaction obliterated his tiny world.
But no matter how hard I tried, I could not escape his irate gaze.
My heart rapidly thumped as he reached around his backside, drawing his .45, cocking it with a menacing smirk.
I knew where he planned to go, but it wasn't her fault, it was his own, and only I could stop him…
His size increased as we casually neared one another.
But the engagement concluded hastily.
My spine tingled from the chill of his steel barrel gently being placed on my temple.
I shuttered from the vibration of him slowly squeezing the trigger before it went dark.
There were no bright lights, or pearly gates.
I wasn't allowed there.
My only final image was our blood splattering on the bathroom mirror before we fell.
It was the only way to stop me.
Patrick Iversen is a twenty-five year old New York native where he currently resides. He is an aspiring writer in various fields with a knack for Norse Mythology.