Russian Roulette

Click.
Safe, again.
Another pass,
another pull,
another baited breath let loose.
Click.
Shaking, we look at each other,
knowing our luck is running thin.
I take the gun and raise it,
close my eyes, and pull.
Click.
My heart skips a beat,
and I drunkenly wonder…
If I won’t lose this game,
which one of us will?
Click.
He reaches for the gun,
but drops it.
He can’t see straight, and the
alcohol slurs his words for him.
I pick it up,
hand it off,
and he pulls.
Click.
Her hand shakes as she
grasps the cold metal.
This game of ours is far from safe,
but our hazy minds don’t stop us.
I look at her through clouded eyes,
and watch her pull.
Bang.
My world turns from
black and white to
red,
and I can hardly register
the blood soaking the carpet as the
gun hits the ground.
Our game is over.
We can go home now.

by PrettyOdd
posted on 06/27/2008