Within The Temptation

WITHIN THE TEMPTATION


    As the ambulances passed by the scene, I lay down on a stretcher as people tried franticly to keep me breathing and to stop the bleeding. But what was the point? I had killed someone, someone dear to me. I'm a killer. But I wasn't always this way. No, I was just your average kid that did well. “Until” the word that kills us. We did it until... What is with this word? It's like it means something bad. But it doesn't always mean bad. It could mean something like: We loved to kill until we changed our ways. But in my case, it means something bad. Why did I do it? Why did I pick up that silver pistol and kill my friend? None of these words could be explained.
    Now I'm fighting for my life. I had never meant to pick up the gun that was thrown toward me. My friend was going crazy. One too many drinks I guess. He took his gun; gold, looked fake, but wasn't. That was my mistake; thinking it was a toy gun. It wasn't, he shot me. I was on my knees in seconds. While one hand clutching at the wound, the other had its hand on the gun. The gun almost seemed as if it wanted to shoot, so I did it the pleasure.
    I raised the gun up pointing it at his heart. After that, I don't know what happened, I blacked out. Like the world was gone. But the next thing I know, I'm in a hospital bed. The sound of the monitors was every where. It drives people nuts. The beep, beep, beeeep over and over again is annoying.
    It hurt. It hurt like nothing before. I couldn't feel any part of my body. Everything was numb. Was I even alive? Wait, is he alive? Did I actually kill my dear friend? These thoughts rushed through my head. Along with the pain of sorrow, and then there was just pain.
    It took a few minutes. A few minutes that took for ever to think. I couldn’t remember anything. Everything was just a foggy blur of darkness, of nothing. What had happened was no where to be found. It took a long time to figure what my name was, or where I even was.
    My name, Dominic, I am seventeen, and I live in the big city, New York. My parents were killed in a car crash just three months ago. After that, well, I've been living on my own. I refused to live with my grandmother, old hag. Has no sense at all, maybe that's why they wanted me to go live with her. Well, screw that: send her to a nursing home for all I care!
    A few minutes, no seconds, was all it took for me to shoot that gun. It was a horrible decision. I felt my finger pull the trigger I heard the bullet, but then, well I guess I'm here now. But I'm not strapped, or cuffed! Why not? Shouldn’t a murder be cuffed, or at least strapped, or in a locked room for that matter? Is it possible that I didn't kill him? No, even if I didn't I would be charged with attempted murder. I would still be locked in jail for who knows how long.
    Why can't I move? Why does my body feel numb? I feel as if I'm going to.... A gross mushy brownish guck poured from my mouth then. Blood mixed in with the vomit.
A couple minutes later, two doctors came in, and held my head over a bucket. Damn, I felt horrible. What's with me? The doctor that called him self Dr. Midnight propped me up so I wasn't choking on any of my insides. Midnight, what kind of name was that? Was that his real name? Or was it some name given to him for fun? Well it doesn't matter. I'm alive, right? This can't be some fantasy land, I feel the pain.
    "Am I, alive?" I croaked, forming the words through the pain. It hurt to talk; it hurt to do anything. I felt like I was going to throw up again.
    "Yes, yes, you’re alive, lucky kid. You wouldn't have survived if it wasn't for your friend," the doctor said.
    "Friend, but I killed him, didn't I?" I asked feeling confused. I pulled the trigger, how did I not kill him? The memory of the night before was blurry. Was it even last night?
    "No, no, no," the doctor said. "I'll tell you later, maybe, but for now just rest," the doctor exclaimed. I tried to protest, but before I could say anything, some med crap was injected into me, and I fell asleep. Maybe sleeping was a good thing for now, the time to get my mind together. A time to think about that day thoroughly...