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| My Secret Savour | Started by: Carmine_Ttrapani on Mar 29, '09 16:30 |
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I don't know if you've ever been shot, but needless to say that shit hurts. Your life flashes before your eyes and if you're lucky to remain alive, a thousand and one thoughts race through your mind. Who did this? Why would anyone ever want to kill me? And, should I extract my revenge as soon as I'm able to walk? If you give it enough time, all of those questions and much more become visible. "He's got more holes in him then swiss cheese, how the hell is he still alive?" That's the first thing I heard, and granted it's nothing like 'Oh, thank God he's ok' or 'Here, let me offer you a sponge bath' but it was nice knowing both of my ears were still attached to my head. Even though one of them was wrapped in gauze and a circle of blood the size of a dime stained the bandage. The morphine they gave me was wearing off, I look down and noticed a hole in one side of my left hand, it started right below my thumb and exited underneath my pinky. I seen they had did surgery on my shin, it shattered the bone so they took some from my hip to replace what was gone. My whole body was now racked with pain, I couldn't open my mouth to scream but whoever it was talking heard the muffles and rushed to my bed, knowing exactly what I wanted. "Ok, ok, just relax. I know you're hurtin'. Let me adjust this right here and you'll be back on that wonderful morphine cloud quicker than you can say Pizziola. Man are you lucky, if those FBI agents hadn't brought you in here you would of bled out and died where they found you." Now, even though the morphine had already kicked in, I wasn't in a daze. Soon as he said 'FBI', I knew who's voice it was I had heard before I blacked out. Fuckin' of all things, these pricks decide to NOT let me get planted six feet deep. This was kind of a problem. FBI saving a known Mobster? What the hell was that goin' to look like? I didn't need that shit. They kept asking me about some old homicide that happened God knows when over God knows what. I tell them, I don't know anything, so fuck off. But do they believe me? Of course not. "Yes sir, you sure are lucky. A nurse will be in here soon to change out your bandages, try to relax and get some rest." I hear him talking to someone on his way out. I automatically thought it was the agents he mentioned, boy did they have great fucking timeing. But it wasn't them, it was some complete stranger. Was it a reporter from the local newspaper? An undercover detective maybe? It didn't matter, because I couldn't talk anyway. "Ahh, there you are, you're one tough son of a bitch, I'll give you that." Most people would deem that a compliment, but the icy way he said it let me know he wasn't a compliment. It sounded more of a disappointed statement someone says when they lose money gambling and have no one to blame but theirself. All I could do was watch every move he made. "Why couldn't you just have done the honorable thing and just died? It's real easy, just allow your out of shape body to hug that hot lead that was poured into you and relax. Breath 'til you can't do it anymore. I guess if Mitch couldn't finish it, I'll have to." He shut the door and picked up an empty syringe lying on the table next to the sink, some cotton balls and bandages. He pulled back the plunger and walked over to me, looking dead in my eyes. "You had a lot of potential, it's a damn shame it had to come down to this." He picked up the I.V. tube and just as he was about to stick the needle in, push down on the plunger and send a oxygen bubble straight into my viens that would make me a corpse, the nurse knocked on the door and popped in to change out my bandages and administer liquid food. This, cold killer, decided it was best to not have any witnesses. He pocketed the syringe and nodded to me, letting me know he would be back. To be continued.. |
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| Nice start Carmine keep it up also you mentioned my name lots of times :) | |
| Reply by: CharlesLuckyLuciano at Mar 29, '09 19:49 | |
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