That’s what I thought you’d do, I think to myself as he opens the door. I close my eyes; I don’t want to watch. As the shotgun rings out, I shudder. He’s moaning. Grinding my teeth, I force myself to look. He’s lying on the floor, his face a red smear. His eyeless face is staring at me, all bloody and black with powder burns. I hear his words through his unintelligible groans in the same way I knew he’d open the door. I hear what he wants to say, what he would have said had his mouth been working.
Drabble Series: What’s Done
Tale Told 