“Papa?” Eric whispered, wiping the moisture from his cheek. “Why did this have to happen… to me?” His lips quivered, the tears could no longer be retained. He broke. The sink below the mirror greeted his hands as he collapsed to the floor. Eric held himself up for a moment then released his grip from the sink.
He lied there whimpering, mumbling questions that couldn’t be answered. Fate, it seemed, had brought him to the breaking point of his emotions. He felt he was no longer in control, or was never in control. He was a victim of fate. As was his father.
Eric screamed as the mark began burning him once more. He howled in misery, kicking a hole in the adjacent wall. “Oh God!” he whaled. “Why is this happening to me?” The pain remained relentless. He screamed through his gritted teeth. Moments pass, and it showed no signs of letting up. Eric felt as that this would go on for eternity.
“Please… please make it stop!” he cried. But his cries remained unanswered. It seemed to be getting worse. “Please!” Nothing. There was no one listening it seemed. “Fine!” Eric exclaimed. “I’ll stop it myself!” Eric picked himself up off the floor while holding his chest. He stumbled out of the water closet into the darkness.
There was a 38’ sitting on the vanity next to his cot. He snatched it, and without hesitation held the pistol against his temple. Eric’s finger began to slowly squeeze the trigger. He could hear the hammer rise, and the chambers rotate. Eric closed his eyes preparing for the shot. Soon it would all be over.
A loud bang erupted in the room, causing Eric’s body to jolt violently. His eyes opened and he was greeted once more with the slummy excuse for an apartment. Eric lowered the gun from his head and seen the hammer was still extended, and that just enough breeze of wind would cause a round to discharge.