TIMED OUT

This is it then. This is how it ends. Id always thought tat the stories of life passing before one’s eyes were just that. Stories. Now mine was flashing in surprising detail. My eighth birthday party, my first kiss at nine. My best friend for the first twelve years of my life, my dog Champ. Losing my virginity at fourteen. Getting my driver’s license at sixteen. My high school prom, summers down the shore, my mom’s passing, seeing my dad cry for the first time at her funeral, my proposal to my now fiancé. Yeah, the stories are true. I’m in trouble. There is a kid standing in front of me. He has a mask on. I can only see his eyes. Steely, piercing, angry, and determined. I know by looking in those eyes that I am going to die. This is my last day on earth. My final hour. My final minute, reduced to seconds, expanded by the life now flashing. “Come on dude, gimme that watch, that ring and your wallet” His demanding voice snapping me back to the current situation. I was terrified, later I would realize that I was incontinent of bladder and bowel. Right now, I was just terrified, the barrel of a gun, directly in my face. I muttered, “please don’t, don’t kill me. “This seemed to agitate him the more, those eyes, so determined squinted tightly, and I wished that I would have kept my mouth shut, I was now closer to death than I had ever been, I quickly took off my watch and ring, and handed them and my wallet over to him. He snatched them from my grasp and yelled “on your knees.” I very quickly did what he said, now realizing that I had been incontinent. “I’ve given you everything, I’ve done what you said. Please let me go.” My fiancé’s loving face is now smiling up at me from our morning love making. God, I love her. This can’t be. We were going to build a life together. Build a family, be involved in birthing classes, Pta meetings, soccer mom and dad, little league coach, cub scout den father and mother. All that is not going to happen because some guy wanted my stuff, and now is going to take it all from me. He walked up closer to me, the gun now mere inches from my face. I closed my eyes and began to pray. Something that I was now woefully ashamed of myself for not having done more of. “Sorry dude, nothing personal, goodbye.” The bastard said this as some sort of sick amusement. I was horrified, however underneath the horror, I felt anger rising beneath it. Anger at the amusement of the young punk taking my material things, and now about taking everything, I ever was, everything that I am, and everything that I was going to be. “This isn’t FAIR!” I screamed inwardly, or maybe out loud. It is all a blur now. I went back to praying. This all happened in seconds. “Gotta go,” the little bastard said Nice meeting you, he said with a menacing chuckle, for some reason, I opened my eyes and looked at him, at the instrument that he was about to use to take my life. In slow-motion, I watched him squeeze the trigger. Click. Click. Click. I now saw bewilderment in his eyes, He stared at the gun in amazement, and anger. He pulled his arm back, weapon in hand as if to strike me. My anger overtook my fear, and I lunged at him, striking him between his legs. I heard a quick “OOOf” escaping his lips, as he staggered back, and fell to one knee, I pounced on him then, Fist flailing, I thought of all the same things that flashed before, but now instead of fear and sorrow, it fueled my anger. Now it was a rage. All of it powered each blow, I was now blind with it, I pounded, I beat, I got to my feet, and I kicked, and kicked. I didn’t realize that he had long stopped fighting back, he wasn’t shielding my kicks anymore. STOP! You are going to kill him! Was that me? Did someone else speak? To this day, I don’t know. I do know that I was snapped out of my blind rage. My eyes looked at the scene. He was in a crumpled heap, lying in the snow. The snow around him crimson red with his blood. The gun lies some three feet away from him. My wallet, watch and ring, between him and the gun. I reached down and retrieved them I almost picked up the gun, but I heard every cop, and detective from every show, scream at me, that is evidence, don’t touch it. I noticed a horrible odor. It was coming from me. I looked at my feet and saw what had escaped my bowel. I absently, in a dream state fished for my phone and dialed 911. I don’t know how long I waited. I remember wishing that they would hurry. I hated the responsibility of making sure he didn’t get up, the responsibility if the gun was lying in the snow, and all the harm that the two together could bring about in our society. I hated it. I only wanted to hand it over to the proper authorities. I only wanted to go home in love up on my fiancé. The officers arrived and shook me from my thoughts. They questioned me, they complimented me on my bravery, they comforted me, seeing my embarrassment at the state of my trousers. Nothing registered, as much as the lady officer who asked me “You heard three clicks?” Yeah, I muttered. “Mr., you are tremendously lucky, no you are a miracle. This gun is fully loaded.” I looked at her in shocked disbelief. “May I go now?” I asked, suddenly understanding what was taken from me, and what was given back. I suddenly need to be home.” Yes sir, you are free to go” I ran the two blocks to the parking garage. Fumbled with my keys, I now realized my hands and fingers were numb for being in the cold for so long, and that they were covered with blood. None of it mattered. I had to get home. I called my fiancé as I drove, grateful for the handsfree feature in my car, I suddenly began to weep. My finance began to cry immediately. Honey! What is wrong?” I blubbered between sobs and recounted the whole story to her. I finally arrived home, she met me at the door, we both wept in each other’s arms. I spoke into her ear. “I lost you; I was on my knees and lost everything. My life, my possessions, my future with you. Id run out of time. Baby, now NOW? We have all the time in the world!