Creative Writing: Russian Roulette

On the thirty third of May, that man, Tigers father, or as he was so named; Mr Hunter, sat across from me. He had come into some difficulty with a client – who had survived his share of twenty games. I’d known him as Orange, but never struck up a conversation with him that lasted more than a minute. I'd heard that he'd been named Orange, after strolling around in his prison uniform, for eight months after his release. He’d grown tired of Mr Hunter stealing lives away, and went out of his way to grow a gang. That mob was bursting full of people who loathed the family.

I’d been in the hallway – and although I’d never witnessed any of Orange’s conflicts, It was sure of that he’d seen mine. I was sitting with my head in between my knees, having just witnessed the murder of another human being. He’d sat beside me, and tilted my head up with a simple motion, and stared me down.

“Little Miss, right?” He chuckled, and crossed his legs, gesturing for the mob to walk off. “If I told you I wanted you to match with Mr Hunter, what mystery feeling do you get from that?” I gulped at this point. Down inside, that beast that craved winning and murder barked that I could do it. Then I pictured Tiger, standing behind his father, and pulling the trigger. I shook my head, and had the courage to stand up.

“I have no feelings towards it – sorry.” I lied, and I lied hard. I never was very good at lying, and I could tell now more than ever, because he gripped my arm, and threw me into the nearest game room he could.

“That’s too bad Little Miss. You’re doing it anyway.”

That’s how I found myself trapped in a room, with a mob of men onlooking - wishing and praying that the man looking me in the eye fell to his death....

... middle of paper ...

... I wait until Orange has decided to leave the room, before I unravel Tiger from me, and crawl over to the weakening body of his father.

“You should just go, and get him out of here Abby.” He chokes out, and I feel Tiger behind me. “She’s a good, innocent girl Tiger. Make sure she gets herself out of this business. She’s good for you. She’ll always be good for you. Take her and run, don’t look back.” He grips Tigers hand, who had knelt down beside me by this point. I let my head fall onto his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Son. I’m sorry.” He ends.

“I’ve already forgotten everything you’ve done dad. I love you for trying to love me, through all my hatred.” Tiger whispers into his ear, before Mr Hunter nods slowly, his eyes closing, and his head tipping onto Tigers knees. “I’m sorry.” He chokes out at the last second, and I embrace him in a hug.

I was done.