As I lay here and write these words, the end is coming. I can feel it. The crimson river is starting to seep more slowly now, either I’m running out, or it’s clotting. I don’t want to shoot myself again, once should have been more than enough.
Tiff has already gone into that good night. She looks more peaceful now than she did a few moments ago, when I first confronted her with the idea of a murder-suicide pact. She didn’t take it too seriously. But, when she saw my gun, she panicked. She knew I meant business, and not only business, I meant that we should do it right then.
I knew she’d never be able to kill me, so I let her go first. It took three shots before she went down. Then I turned the gun on myself. I didn’t want to shoot myself in the head, I knew from reading several medical textbooks that a suicidal head shot can have devastating consequences on the structure of the head. The whole area could be taken clean off.
And people with no head can’t have an open casket funeral; it could frighten people. Even now, I think courteously of those left behind. I know mom would want to see me one last time, heck, my weird cousin Fred might try to take a picture.
I’ve known Tiff for only six months, but what a magical six months it’s been! Granted, we’ve only been dating for the past few days. I know it was love that we shared, and will continue to share in the afterlife.
One of the good things about living in the middle of nowhere is that the nearest neighbor is at least a mile away. It’ll be a few days before anyone notices we’re gone and starts to investigate.
I’d like to see the look on their faces, haha, they’ll look at us with a mixture of pity and disgust as they see our bloated, rotting corpses sprawled on the ground and… Gompers.
Yes, I almost forgot about my dog, he’ll be here with nothing to eat; he may try to eat us once I die. I know how to fix that.
Okay, Gompers is dead. I called him over as if I had something for him to eat, oh he ate it all right. Right in the head. I almost feel sorry bringing an innocent into this, but no matter, he’ll be our faithful canine companion in the afterlife. Maybe I should kill a few more people, I’m sure our friends would like to join us.
Oh, my wound has stopped bleeding, guess it’s time to shoot myself again. This time, I’ll hold the gun right to my heart, I’ll surely die then.
“May our love continue till the end of time.”
(This story is by a person called Brad Hall)