Over the past twelve hours I’ve come to learn that I’m actually really good at this. Killing people, I mean. Honestly, I think the government should fucking hire me to take people out. I know how to do it all quick and terrifying. And I positively love it. My favorite part is when the eyes bug out at the very end, just as they realize this is not a dream and I’m never going to call for help. They open the lids up real wide, you see, right before their soul or life force or electro-chemical impulses, or whatever they are cry out for the last time. Then the lids relax, but the eyes don’t close like they do on television. No sir. They stay open and stare straight ahead, except there’s nothing behind them anymore. The lights go out. I like seeing the lights go out.
Did you ever hear that old story about how French executioners used to hold up the disembodied heads of the condemned and command them to blink until they finally died? They say some heads were able to keep blinking up to thirty times before they finally died. Can you imagine that? Being aware that you're dying? That your body is already lying lifeless on the ground while your head is performing its last actions on command like a trained monkey? What must it feel like to watch the world fade to black right in front of you? Does it fade, I wonder? Or are you just suddenly not there? Can you imagine watching it happen to someone else right before your eyes?
I knew what I was going to do for the rest of tonight when I saw my mom’s eyes bug out. The last drops of her life circled the drain and she looked up at me with her mouth all gasping like a fish out of water. Ha! You’ll get why that’s funny in a minute.
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