Artistikem

I was sitting there with myself waiting for the night bus and I couldn’t stop thinking about her face as she realized how much harm I could inflict on her.

She cried, she screamed, but nothing could stop me from killing her. So stern in her arguments, as if she wore blinders, life blinders.

“Give me all you’ve got, miss.” A voice demanded. It was cold, it was solitary. Who else was it than a robber?

“Fuck off, punk.” I said without looking at him. I didn’t care if he shot me, I had no money on me.

“Give me your money, gimme everything, come on.” I could tell he was nervous. I looked up at his gun and it was silver and looked very bright under the lamppost.

“Silver? For real? Everyone will see you.” He glanced round us. “Just kill me, I’ve got no money, no jewelry, and I just killed someone. Like you will now.”

“Who said I was gonna kill you?”

“What you’ve got that gun for if not for killing?”

He paused for a moment, his eyes turned for the floor introspectively.

I took the gun from his hand and pointed it to his forehead. His whole body shook, frightened. “Don’t kill me, don’t kill me please.”

“What kind of robber are you if you are afraid of dying?” I pressed the cold metal to his forehead. “I’ve killed. Can you tell by my face? No. But I did it, I killed my best friend because she just wouldn’t shut up.” He got on his knees, his hands on the air, surrendering. I was so sure of what I was doing that it wasn’t even funny. How did I get to this? When was it that I turned into a murderer? Yes, when she decided to leave, when she decided her boyfriend was more important than all the plans we had together.

“Are you gonna kill me for reals?”

“I killed her because she was stubborn. Because she wanted to abandon me for what? Him? A man who didn’t deserve her, a guy who wouldn’t stand beside her when she decided to fulfill her dreams? I was there for her always.” I had to stop myself. Was I going to explain myself to a stranger?

I pulled him by the shirt. He was shaking so badly I had to secure the gun by entwining his fingers.

“Shoot me.”

“Let me go, please. I won’t kill you.”

“Do it!” I pulled the trigger myself. “Now you’ll know how it feels to kill someone.”

My shirt, dampened by my own blood, frightened him to the core. I stood there as the bus stopped next to me, it was empty and so it remained as I dropped to the ground and felt the cold asphalt under me.

“Live!” I opened my eyes and the robber was over me, his hands pressing my wound.

“Get off me!” I tried to push him away but he insisted on me lying down. Then he started calling for help, he summoned the bus driver, he took his cell phone and gave it to him.

“Call an ambulance, she needs assistance.”

“Don’t call anyone. Let me die, I deserved it.”

“No one deserves to die.” His eyes looked directly into mine and I saw a glint of light on them. I thought it was the one on the other side of the dark tunnel that leads to death, but there was no elevating sensation on me. “It’s going to be okay, ma’am.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I ain’t no murderer. You are.”