Merely a few inches away from the barrel,
Death, in form of a tiny metal contraption,
Just a pull on the trigger,
And a loud bang,
Bounces off from wall to wall.
I stared at the end of the barrel for what seemed like an eternity. I had raised my hands in surrender when I was threatened but there's something else gnawing at the back of my head - something I can't quite put my finger on. Funny thing, the thought of Itchy trigger finger just rushed in my mind and went away just as fast as it came - I laughed audibly at the thought. Here I am, standing very close to a gunman and my mind can't register that it's not the time for puns exactly - now my mind is making me doubt my senses.
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The gunman is angry yet his demeanor is calm - his anger isn't a facade but an intimidation tactic, to show a dangerous man is in charge of my immediate fate. His hands are steady - if it wasn't then that would raise caution, or perhaps I would have already ended up lying in my own pool of blood sooner. His appearance is proving to be helpful to calculate when to duck if (that is a big IF) the shots are fired - I can probably move out of the way unscathed or with minimum damage - live to see another day. What is he thinking? His eyes are fixated on mine.
I'm not sure yet if he's going to pull the trigger altogether, hoping he'll leave me unharmed by the time his business is finished. But... What is his business? Why is he here? He isn't here just to wave a gun in front of my face, is he? That can't be his only purpose. He's up to something, good or bad that is yet to confirm.
What does "facing death" feel like?
I ask because this is the first time I'm facing my probable death. One wrong move and the gun will go off, penetrating my skull, brain matter scatters all around, and the beautiful Persian rug becomes my temporary resting place till I get lowered down six feet underground by a bunch of people. No one will know nor anyone will write in my gravestone that my final thoughts were Itchy trigger finger! What a shame!!!
That thought had me roll my eyes at myself. Why am I reacting this way! I heard people could see their lives flash before them right during a near-death experience - I'm sure they don't have this sort of obscene ideas nor do they mentally scold themselves for having said ideas. No, I didn't have my life flash before my eyes - even though my life hasn't been that long. There are no regrets in my life - I don't burden myself with that sort of negativity nor do I have people who will be distraught over my disfigured carcass. I'm, officially, calling myself certifiable or a loose nut.
What a peculiar person am I!
Millions of thoughts swirling in my mind while my eyes keep glancing at his index finger that rests on the trigger to his face, trying to decipher his expression. While I try to figure out how to get out of this sticky situation, my mind is playing the Bee Gees "Stayin' Alive" along with a few witty remarks for which I would have applauded myself in some other circumstance but now mentally face palming myself. I realize my brain isn't functioning the way it should. I should be afraid but I am not. Although my heart is drumming as if it will burst out of my rib cage and land on the floor but it's not due to fear - anticipation? Or an adrenaline rush? It is a strange feeling though and surely my brain is hyperactive - is it?
Has he sensed the void in my eyes where fear should be?
