Heylooo people...here is my second fiction story:
My name is Ashton Mathew….I have a problem....I was told that there are two kinds of people, the good people and the bad people. They say the good people go to heaven where as the latter find a hole deep under.
Now if that were right, no one today would go to heaven, reason being every one has sinned at some point of time.
So lets break it down. Say they are two categories of behavior in a mans life, the good kind and the bad kind. Now I’m thinking that whomever decides our fate after death would probably equate the number of good deeds done to the number of bad ones or vice versa. I thank my mind for believing this whole theory for the mind is a beautiful thing that should never be destroyed.
Now here is my story:
" I am going to fucking kill everyone here today", he said. The guy is sweating so much, he is so nervous. "This is a damn robbery, every one stay on the ground...I need this money". He makes me go to the manager and get the locker code. I do as told...the guys so nervous, he could pull the trigger anytime, besides I got a family at home and my fathers dying." All I needed was to draw the money and get to the hospital, Darn it!", I thought.
By now everyone seemed bewildered and petrified. I decided though, that I would be calm and get this done with, after all the first thing i learned in my profession is to be calm and listen to what the patient has to say.
So now I get the locker code, help him get the money out and wait for his next move. He is done , and now we all go home.
'WAIT A MIN!, he screamed, 'Where do you think you’re going?'. Now I was assuming I would get back onto the ground and he would just get the hell out of there. Well I was wrong.
"I need a hostage to get me the hell out of here.", oh me , Why me?...the old lady there looks vulnerable and easy... take her", I thought. Now I need to help this Sicko get out of here...FUCK!
Sirens Blazing!, he knew the Feds were here. Now he’s all hysterical. He takes his gun back out from his coat and shoots the manager right through his damn head!
"FUCK FUCK FUCK!!", he said.
I said " WHY THE HELL DID YOU HAVE TO DO THAT?", I don’t know how I built up the courage to say that. Thought I was a goner, but all he did was look at me and didn’t say a word.
Now I thought I would have to talk to him out of this.
Reason a) I am the only guy, who he hasn’t threatened or put a bullet through the head and b) because its my job as a doctor to understand and solve the patients condition.
I decided that now they are only two ways to get out of this, either to make him surrender since we are already cornered by the cops or worse, talk the guy into shooting himself. Now for a psychiatrist that seems to be any easy task, all my patients are usually sick of life.
The gunshot got everyone all nervous. I needed to do something. This pregnant lady is still screaming. "AHHHHH!...shut up for fuck sake or you and your kid will be seeing the end of his bullet…" I thought.
Now he has got his gun aimed at her. "Wait, hold on!, shes a mother. Have a heart”.
He looks at me and puts the gun down. ‘ I have a heart , just shut her up. She is getting me nervous.’ I signal to the fellow ladies around her to keep her calm.
Hmm…the understanding type.
‘Man I could use a drink right about now.’, he said.
Well thank you Jesus!, I am happy I didn’t get rid of the habit. Find my small tin bottle with with my favourite Jack daniels inside.
“Here you go.” I said. “
“So whats your plan?”, not expecting an answer.
“Well, I am sorry”, he said,” just that I know I am anyway going to hell but I need this money.” Probably now is a good time to give him my theory on good and bad.
“Well, not necessarily, I mean If you let these people go, you have saved more than you have killed.”
But I did kill, he said.
“Then maybe you should ask for forgiveness once your out of here???”
“I know I am not getting out of here alive, maybe he would forgive me if I just shot myself and let these guys out of here, Its just that I really feel sorry for you.”
Man that was easy, he’s already thinking of suicide. “ Sorry for me?, that’s ok I am sure they will understand why I got late”. I said
So without saying another word, he just finishes his drink, points the gun at his heart and BAM!
I just got up from our drinking seat and walked thinking why he shot himself in the heart…PSYCHO.
I walk two more steps fall on the ground, blood oozing out of my chest all over my coat.
Cant destroy the mind, for it is a beautiful thing.
Deceased: Ashton Mathew patient suffering from par amnesia on temporary discharge as recommended by Psychiatrist.
So now, where am I going, hell for the robbery and the manager or heaven for saving everyone else in that bank?