The faint buzzing of an old street light in the distance was the only sound that filled the air. The loud dogs that paced yellow lawns and fenced in porches were deep asleep. It was as melancholy as it could get. My hand trembled, I looked down at the paper weapon clasped between my fingers. I lifted my hand and pressed the cold cigarette to my chapped lips, long ago accepting the fact that I 'd never remember the taste of his mouth, in the same way I didn 't remember the last time my life wasn 't anything more than a huge fucking shit show. With my other hand I clicked the lighter to life. The hot flickering flame danced in front of my watery ocean blue eyes, which were long dulled by all the loss and pain they 've been through. My eyes fell …show more content…
“Today is the day”. My voice cracked, and filled the empty and otherwise silent alleyway. Who was I announcing to? I didn 't really know. Maybe I was convincing myself it really was the day. Maybe I was hoping someone, anyone would hear me. I stared blankly into the filthy, graffitied wall in front of me, and contemplated tomorrow. Who would find me? Would it be a homeless man? Perhaps some stray dogs, who would gladly make an opportunistic meal of me? I shrugged. I 'd finally be useful for something then. I took another drag of the cigarette and reached into my purse. There was only one thing inside, and as soon as my fingers grasped around it I felt my heart begin pounding harder inside my chest. The hard metal was icy cold to the touch. I exhaled a puff of smoke at the same time as I pulled the gun out. I stared intensely at the contraption, wondering how many lives it had cut short in its existence. My hands were going numb, as if they realized what they were holding. “Today 's the day.” I can 't overthink this. One pull of a trigger and it 'll all be over. A bullet to the head is an instant death right? I 've suffered through enough pain and bullshit. I won 't even feel it. And soon it 'll all be alright. I will be in a state of deep and final sleep, and it 's all I could ever ask for. I slowly and silently clicked the safety off. With a racing heart but a quiet mind I cocked the gun. I shut my eyes, and let out a deep, shaky breath. Raising the gun to my temple, I realized how heavy it felt in my small hands. “Today 's the
David retreats a step. Might be the first time in his life he is had a gun pointed at him by someone ready to use it. David: Don 't you do it! The man brings his eye to the sights, draws back on the trigger and bang” (Wright 1-3).
One Gun + One Bullet = Death among Millions Violence in the world can be described as a violent trend that will continue to become more violent with each new passing generation. The argument is that guns are the reason for violence in today’s society and it begins with just the simple purchase of one gun. It begins with hurtful words that turn to taking a shot at the enemies that appear right in front of the daily population. Gun violence is becoming more and more prevalent today. The article titled “New Gun Laws Won’t Save Lives” by Jim Lucas really grabs the readers attention making them want to read it.
In effort to ending his unhappiness, the shooter kills himself. Many people today consider committing suicide because of their unhappiness with themselves and the world. As the years pass on, suicide increases as a common situation in society. To stop violence, people should consider other activities such that of a natural high to help them avoid falling into boredom or to help them feel happy. If violence does not exist, society would evolve into a better state of peace and happiness.
Don 't you do it. Don 't you fucking do it." After several gun shots are heard, she exclaims "Did you shoot
On the final panels of page 10, Fell is given an opportunity to take out a firearm of his own and take out Connah, but Fell doesn’t take the opportunity. Even after Fell has achieved full control of the situation, and is shown to feel an urge to end Connah’s life, he doesn’t take it. Warren Ellis once again carefully sets up and demonstrates his characters personalities through the use of guns. Fell’s response to, and use of guns in comparison to Connah is used to examine in contrast their distinctive personalities. More specifically, how they react to the gain and loss of
The ground was missing gum stains and the walls were all clean of graffiti art. Everything looked empty and sad; the air smelled disgusting. I awoke every morning pretending we’d be moving back the next day. I learned that this was simply me denying what has already happened. These were the days where I was supposed to
Another day was so much like the one before, and the many before that. He walked the house and grounds, slowly, letting time pass as it must. Alone, present but not present, for can one truly be there if no one knows of it? Like the saying he’d heard more than once over the unmeasured time of his existence: If a tree falls in the forest but no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound? He ambled through the back yard, pausing under the tree from which he’d been hanged, cursing his tormentors, vowing to haunt them for all time.
I filled my gun with gunpowder and took the rod to make sure the bullet was in place. I gently cocked my musket and fired. The bullet struck one of the red coats and he fell to the ground, injured. Blood gushed out of his leg as he tried to manage his wound with a bandage. James tackled one of the red coats and used a rock to smash his face.
I didn't know who I was, or where I was. I was scared, so scared. Out of nowhere I started glowing, heating up everything around me. "Do you feel that? " I heard a faint voice ask.
Clay woke up to the loud, and obnoxious screeching of the alarm clock that rested on the floor next to his bed, he groaned in annoance at realization of consciousness, wishing sleeping felt longer. After laying there for another five minutes with the alarm blaring in the background, he desided to get up. The feline streched his frail wings out, making the muscles inside shiver slightly from the lack of use for the past few hours. After a bit more stretching in bed, Clay lazily slipped out of bed, his paws hitting the floor with a muffled "thump", due to the carpeted flooring.
“They’re back, Matt,” Doctor Sarah Leslie, CDC’s Chief Medical Examiner spoke through the phone. Retired, Detective Matthew Benson clinched the phone tighter, there was only one reason she would make that claim, a dead body. “How many?” “Two,” she said, “but we both know more will follow.” “Unfortunately,” he agreed.
He had been leaning against the wall when I came into the room, his arms folded across his chest. [...] As I pointed he brought his arms down and pressed the palms of his hands against the wall. [...] I looked from his hands to his sand-stained khaki pants; my eyes traveled up his thin frame to his torn denim shirt. [...] His lips parted into a timid smile, and our neighbor’s image blurred with my sudden tears.
In 2001 in the journal Pediatrics Geoffrey Jackman, they asked twenty-nine groups of two to three boys, around the age of ten, to wait in a room with a two-sided mirror for fifteen minutes. In the room were openly displayed two water pistols and a real 0.380 caliber handgun partially hidden in the room. The handgun was rigged to imitate the sound of it being shot. Eighty percent of the sixty boys found the handgun. Fifty percent handled the handgun, twenty-six percent pulled the trigger, and fifty-six percent were unsure if it was real or not.
Will’s father was not around him during his childhood, after Shawn died he ran into his father and told him the plan to get revenge, Will did not know this but when his father was trying to get revenge he shot the wrong person and his father did not want Will to make the same mistake so” He pulled the gun from my waistband. And put it to my head. What are you doin’? Is hrilled, in shock.
Maybe I could just use the last bullet I had in my gun to just go away.” (Boyden, p.140) Frenchie is done. He does not want to keep running, he feels like there has been no progress and everything is going wrong. Frenchie has come to the point where he believes suicide is the only solution to make his problems go away.