Thebruno12
05-11-2014, 10:17 PM
Pull the trigger
Ethan Neipris
So there I was in a dark room, my dead girlfriends old apartment. I had a pistol in my hand and it was pointing at my temple. I was going to do it. My note was in my pocket and I was ready to die. Let me catch you up on what was happening. My name is Tim Barrant. I’m 24 years old, and I'm about to commit suicide. My mother and father are both dead because of me. My best friend, John Burner, is dead, because of me. And, my girlfriend, Wini Smith, is dead. Because of me.
“Tim, wake up. Now, answer the question, who wrote the Odyssey?” My English teacher asked me.
“Homer Simpson? I think” I replied a minute later. Everyone laughed at me.
“It’s just Homer, not an overweight alcoholic cartoon character. Pay attention better.”
It was senior year for me, a week before the last day for us seniors. I hated every second of it. Everyone at school hated me, I was barley passing, and, John was on vacation for another 2 days. I was alone at school, with no one but me. At least it was one more week. Then all the torment would stop, I would not have to see all these *******s again for the rest of my life, and I was out of this town. Or so I thought.
I got home, and there was my twin sister Sydney, and she was so happy. She was what’s called “popular” and, me; I was a Goth freak who just about everyone in the school couldn't care less about.
“Tim! Chad proposed! I'm getting married!” She said.
Chad was my sister’s boyfriend, and my biggest bully. Him and his friends would take my phone, steal my money, beat me up, call me names you name it, the probably did it to me. One time, he and Sydney were hanged out at our house, and I was practicing my guitar, a bit too loud. Chad came bursting into my room, kick my TV over, stole the guitar from my hands and smashed it into bits. Then, I said, “Get the **** out or I'm calling the police.” He didn’t. so I took my phone out dialed 9-1- then he took my phone, threw it at the wall, took one of my belts off the ground, and tied me up, and shoved some socks in my mouth. Then he took Sydney to dinner, and my parents didn’t come home for another 7 hours. So, you could so I didn’t like him.
“Great” I said to Sydney as Chad walked into the room, “I just love that dick head Chad.”
“What did you just call me Fattsy Cline?” He said.
“Nothing” I replied walking away trying not to get a beating. From there I went to my room and put on some music, and just slept for hours until dinner time. That was the worst day ever.
It was graduation day, finally. John and I weren’t going to any parties, we were just gonna sneak off to our hang out, the abandoned paper mill in our town to have a few beers. We got there and we sat down I pulled out the six pack, and started drinking.
After having 5 beers, John and I decided to head home. I only had 1 beer, and John had the rest of the six pack. We both drove ourselves, and I idiotically let John drive himself.
I woke up the next morning to hear the news. John flipped his car off the road and died yesterday. It was my entire fault. I didn’t know what to do. His parents were at my house when I woke up. My only friend. Gone. And, the worst part is, it’s my fault. If I had driven him or if I had made him stay for a little longer, maybe he wouldn’t have died.
The funeral was the next Tuesday. It was the worst week ever. My best friend, gone. My bully was now a soon-to-be member of the family, who parents loved by the way. And now, I was alone. Now one else in the world really understood me, until I moved into my dorm at the collage I barely made it into. My roommate’s name was Vladimir. He was Russian. He was pretty cool I guess, but we didn’t connect like John.
One night, Vladimir noticed I was acting depressed so we went to the bar and he told me to meet someone. I did. Her name was Wini. Wini Jackson. We hit it off immediately. She liked everything I liked, it was perfect, and so we started dating. After a year and a half, we got engaged, by this point I was 23.
We were driving home one night after we both got drunk at the bar. I got behind the wheel. We were on a dirt road that took us back to her house, and my parents were on the same road. I didn’t see them coming. I just, just hit them and kept going. Then I hit a tree and Wini flew out of the windshield. Now one found us until the next morning. The cops couldn’t tell I had been drinking because it had all went through my system. The found Wini 50 feet from the car. Dead. My parents, 30 feet behind the car. Dead. All cuz of me. I had too much to drink; I made a stupid decision and killed the only people that had actually kind of cared about me. Now, Chad and my sister were flying out from their Malibu pent house because chad was a famous movie star now. Yay Chad, a rich and famous movie star. After all the funerals I went into a downward spiral for months. I got addicted to heroin and meth. I got arrested and forced to go to rehab by the court. That’s when I decided my fate. I broke out two weeks later. Went back to Wini’s old apartment and got myself a Berretta 9000 and a case of booze. No one was home.
I broke into the apart and sat on the couch. It was the end for me. I had the e gun in my hand. It was load. I saw John, my first victim. He put his hand on the gun. I saw my mom, my second victim. She put her hand on the gun. I saw my dad, my third victim. He put his hand on the gun. Then, I saw Wini, my fourth and final victim. Now, I was crying. I was saying “I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry.”
They responded with a collective, “Pull the trigger and be with us Tim. Pull the trigger. Pull the trigger” They said pull the trigger over and over again.
Then I turned the safety off and the next thing I heard was a bang.
Ethan Neipris
So there I was in a dark room, my dead girlfriends old apartment. I had a pistol in my hand and it was pointing at my temple. I was going to do it. My note was in my pocket and I was ready to die. Let me catch you up on what was happening. My name is Tim Barrant. I’m 24 years old, and I'm about to commit suicide. My mother and father are both dead because of me. My best friend, John Burner, is dead, because of me. And, my girlfriend, Wini Smith, is dead. Because of me.
“Tim, wake up. Now, answer the question, who wrote the Odyssey?” My English teacher asked me.
“Homer Simpson? I think” I replied a minute later. Everyone laughed at me.
“It’s just Homer, not an overweight alcoholic cartoon character. Pay attention better.”
It was senior year for me, a week before the last day for us seniors. I hated every second of it. Everyone at school hated me, I was barley passing, and, John was on vacation for another 2 days. I was alone at school, with no one but me. At least it was one more week. Then all the torment would stop, I would not have to see all these *******s again for the rest of my life, and I was out of this town. Or so I thought.
I got home, and there was my twin sister Sydney, and she was so happy. She was what’s called “popular” and, me; I was a Goth freak who just about everyone in the school couldn't care less about.
“Tim! Chad proposed! I'm getting married!” She said.
Chad was my sister’s boyfriend, and my biggest bully. Him and his friends would take my phone, steal my money, beat me up, call me names you name it, the probably did it to me. One time, he and Sydney were hanged out at our house, and I was practicing my guitar, a bit too loud. Chad came bursting into my room, kick my TV over, stole the guitar from my hands and smashed it into bits. Then, I said, “Get the **** out or I'm calling the police.” He didn’t. so I took my phone out dialed 9-1- then he took my phone, threw it at the wall, took one of my belts off the ground, and tied me up, and shoved some socks in my mouth. Then he took Sydney to dinner, and my parents didn’t come home for another 7 hours. So, you could so I didn’t like him.
“Great” I said to Sydney as Chad walked into the room, “I just love that dick head Chad.”
“What did you just call me Fattsy Cline?” He said.
“Nothing” I replied walking away trying not to get a beating. From there I went to my room and put on some music, and just slept for hours until dinner time. That was the worst day ever.
It was graduation day, finally. John and I weren’t going to any parties, we were just gonna sneak off to our hang out, the abandoned paper mill in our town to have a few beers. We got there and we sat down I pulled out the six pack, and started drinking.
After having 5 beers, John and I decided to head home. I only had 1 beer, and John had the rest of the six pack. We both drove ourselves, and I idiotically let John drive himself.
I woke up the next morning to hear the news. John flipped his car off the road and died yesterday. It was my entire fault. I didn’t know what to do. His parents were at my house when I woke up. My only friend. Gone. And, the worst part is, it’s my fault. If I had driven him or if I had made him stay for a little longer, maybe he wouldn’t have died.
The funeral was the next Tuesday. It was the worst week ever. My best friend, gone. My bully was now a soon-to-be member of the family, who parents loved by the way. And now, I was alone. Now one else in the world really understood me, until I moved into my dorm at the collage I barely made it into. My roommate’s name was Vladimir. He was Russian. He was pretty cool I guess, but we didn’t connect like John.
One night, Vladimir noticed I was acting depressed so we went to the bar and he told me to meet someone. I did. Her name was Wini. Wini Jackson. We hit it off immediately. She liked everything I liked, it was perfect, and so we started dating. After a year and a half, we got engaged, by this point I was 23.
We were driving home one night after we both got drunk at the bar. I got behind the wheel. We were on a dirt road that took us back to her house, and my parents were on the same road. I didn’t see them coming. I just, just hit them and kept going. Then I hit a tree and Wini flew out of the windshield. Now one found us until the next morning. The cops couldn’t tell I had been drinking because it had all went through my system. The found Wini 50 feet from the car. Dead. My parents, 30 feet behind the car. Dead. All cuz of me. I had too much to drink; I made a stupid decision and killed the only people that had actually kind of cared about me. Now, Chad and my sister were flying out from their Malibu pent house because chad was a famous movie star now. Yay Chad, a rich and famous movie star. After all the funerals I went into a downward spiral for months. I got addicted to heroin and meth. I got arrested and forced to go to rehab by the court. That’s when I decided my fate. I broke out two weeks later. Went back to Wini’s old apartment and got myself a Berretta 9000 and a case of booze. No one was home.
I broke into the apart and sat on the couch. It was the end for me. I had the e gun in my hand. It was load. I saw John, my first victim. He put his hand on the gun. I saw my mom, my second victim. She put her hand on the gun. I saw my dad, my third victim. He put his hand on the gun. Then, I saw Wini, my fourth and final victim. Now, I was crying. I was saying “I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry.”
They responded with a collective, “Pull the trigger and be with us Tim. Pull the trigger. Pull the trigger” They said pull the trigger over and over again.
Then I turned the safety off and the next thing I heard was a bang.