The First Time
By: Jim Woods
Tags: Crime Fiction, Short Story, Short Fiction, Flash Fiction, Fiction

Flash Fiction

The First Time

The moment everything changed

Photo by Jeremy Alford on Unsplash

The sound of the gun firing scared the shit out of me. It was louder than I thought it’d be. The moment I pulled the trigger and the bullet went into his skull, I knew there was no going back. Everything changed in that fraction of a second.

Surprisingly, I didn’t feel anything. I wasn’t sad or happy or anything really. He had to go. That was it. End of the story. It was him or me.

I looked down at his body and was surprised to see that there wasn’t very much blood. Nothing like the movies. The bullet went in and never came back out. That was it.

BANG. Then his body slouched over, like he passed out drunk. The end.

Maybe it was the gun I used. I didn’t care. It did its job. I could feel the adrenaline surge throughout my body. I knew I had to leave, but something kept me standing there.

It might have been love, but I doubt it.

It’s probably that I’d never seen someone die before, let alone because of my own actions. It was like my feet were anchored down with cement. Something inside was holding me in place. Despite the heavy sensation, I felt powerful.

Like I was in control, after years of everything going the other way. No more black eyes, no more bruises or scars. No more letting his shit slide. I no longer had to look behind me and wonder what the hell he was doing.

He was gone. I was free. But yet I stood in place staring at his corpse.

When I finally started to move my feet, I heard a voice from behind me. “Freeze. Step back, and put your hands on your head.” Definitely a male.

I listened and felt some relief knowing that I’d tucked the handgun in my belt and had covered it with the front of my shirt.

I turned around.

I turned on the waterworks and ugly cried like I could feel something raw and real.

“Ma’am, what happened?” A female voice. For some reason, her words scared me almost as much as the sound of the gun.

“My — husband — he’s — my husband. And he’s gone!”

“Did you call 911 ma’am?” The male.

I nodded.

“Are you all right?” The female. She had holstered her weapon and was walking toward me now.

I continued to cry, and black streaks slid down each side of my face.

I took a deep breath playing out all of the possible scenarios in my mind.

None of them ended well.

The male police officer stepped in front of me to look at the body.

I felt the handgun nestled in the waist of my jeans as I watched the policeman. He didn’t approach me and cuff me, so that was a good sign. He didn’t think I did anything. When I turned toward the him, the other cop disappeared. I tried to imagine where the female police officer was. I pictured her going back to the car and radioing for help.

No loose ends, I thought. No loose ends.

I then heard her voice coming from my left.

“Do you — ” I turned around firing the gun without hesitation. She collapsed immediately.

I turned again and fired the other way causing the male police officer to tumble to the ground right next to my husband.

For some reason, I still felt nothing. No remorse at all. It was them or me. I knew I saved countless others by taking down the bastard. I did a good thing. It was them or me. And it wasn’t gonna be me.

I stopped and looked at the bodies in front of me for another moment and then walked past the female cop. Everything had changed in a matter of minutes. Nothing was the same. I smiled slightly as I caught my reflection in the rear view mirror. I felt different now. Like a new person. I drove off into the night.