No Goal Story
The weather was great that morning. Everything was fine and at it's place, except for one thing. One little change that only a trained eye could see. One tiny blood drop right beside my closet. I knew something was wrong, I knew danger was close. So I picked up my Desert Eagle from under my pyllow and started spraying all around. If it was not dead, man, God is real. I gently opened the closet and it was there, lying down and bleeding like crazy. I did not feel bad, it was his life or mine, I won. Now, the hard part. Where do I put that? I can not go outside with that on my back, that is dumb and suspicious. The trash bin is neither an option, too far. Finally, I made up a great plan. I will bring it to my mother's place and dump it in the near forest.
When I arrived, my mom was away. Except for few neighboors, no one could see me. I quickly unload my package and went straight deep in the forest. Do you know how it feels to kill? For me, it is like eating pancakes. It is soft, delicious and when added with maple syrip I can not control myself. Empathy makes you weak. After about an hour, I found the perfect spot. A nice clearing with a beautiful green grass. I dug deep down the earth and the hole was now ready. I took a moment to appreciate the moment, I was glad there. Then I threw my package in and filled the rest with dirt. My mission was over.
Later I returned to my mom's place. This time she was home. She received me with surprise and we spoked and ate together. I learned her friend Sophia was dead after a heart attack and that my cousin Henry is finally far from his cancer. After a while, I decided it was time to go. I thanked my mom and quickly came back home. Tired after all this, I went to bed and yanked the crime scene, my closet. The next morning the weather was great. Everything was fine and at it's place, except for one thing. One little change that only a trained eye could see. One tiny blood drop right beside my closet. I knew something was wrong, I knew danger was close. So I picked up my Desert Eagle from under my pyllow and started spraying all around. If it was not dead, man, God is real. I was right because when I opened the closet there he was, God, lying down and bleeding like crazy, still alive.