Thursday, April 7, 2011

No Hesitation

Warning: This piece has quite a bit more profanity than I'm used to posting online and deals with a touchy subject—one that has touched my own family, and even myself. That's not an easy thing to confess. I apologize in advance if I offend anyone. I'm not advocating violence as a means of escape, but once upon a time there weren't many other choices. I also know there are decent fellows out there in the world, and I salute them for being the 'real men.'. I wrote this as part of a prompt for Creative Writing class. The assignment was to write a very short piece of conflict, starting  the story with: "This is what I should have done..."

No Hesitation

This is what I should have done. I should have pulled the trigger instead of hesitating long enough to talk myself out of it. The son of a bitch would be dead. 

I’d be in jail, but I’d be free. Free from nasty, hate-filled smirks...narrowed eyes a searchlight for any excuse. Free from waking up and not being able to get out of bed because something else might be broken besides the perpetual promise of “Never Again.” Free from my now twice-weekly duty of being a Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robot. 
I should have pulled the goddamned trigger and blown his fucking brains all over the pillow while he snored, sleeping off his latest binge of whiskey and Whack-a-Me. Why didn’t I? Was I afraid I’d miss and he’d wake up, snatch the gun out of my hands and shoot me instead? He was so far gone that a KISS concert wouldn’t have disturbed his peaceful slumber. The gun had a brand new clip in it, so what if one bullet went wide...there were more. I could have put a sweet plug right between the motherfucker’s eyes and ended both my pain and his. 
Too late for that now, I think, as I set my face in grim determination to endure another round with the Raging Bull. He is between me and where the Glock lies hidden. All I can do now is take the blows and admonish myself. 
Why the hell did you even buy the goddamn thing? I ask myself as his wrath begins raining a hailstorm of blows. 
Go on, I silently urge him. Get it done. 
That’s right. 
Get it done and go to sleep. 
I may have just enough strength left. 
And this time, there will be no hesitation


  1. Wow, that's a hard piece to read, but it's a piece I think needed to be written. Hugs for being brave enough to post it. You really feel for the narrator.

  2. Thanks, Icy. I've had this one on hold for awhile. Made me uncomfortable to write, edit and post it.

  3. A powerful and, as Icy said, brave piece today, Maria. The emotion comes through just right. Hopefully it makes us all a bit uncomfortable.

    Thanks for sharing!

  4. It takes a lot of courage to confront an issue like this. Well done.

  5. Hi, Maria. This is a really good start, and I have a few additional questions.

    Why did she not go through with it? How did she talk herself out of it? What thoughts went through her mind when she was holding the gun? What feelings? How many times did she take out the gun, cock it, aim it, then disarm and put it back into hiding?

    And why does she feel that shooting to kill is the only alternative she has? (There's nothing wrong with that feeling from a storytelling perspective, and it's very realistic, but you also didn't explore it.) Why can't she shoot to disable, rather than shoot to kill? Why can't she use the gun in self-defense? Why can't she run away? Why can't she bring in an advocate who will defend her?