A Clip or Two

I know, bad timing right? I don't mean to offend and I wrote this before the shooting. I swear :P

When he walked into the restaurant, there was no heart pounding silence, no turning of heads or muffled screams. A few curious glances made their way into his view but eye contact was quickly broken. Not by him, of course; he was here to do business with a few middle aged vacationers and their grandchildren. To them he was just another angsty, pasty, Auschwitz mode teenager draped in black. If they only knew. They would run as if mid-life crisis cars and health care were on sale, rushing to the police station to snap up their going, going, gone! deals of a lifetime. Then they would laugh. They would laugh at our boys failed attempt to bring out his big old .45 Smith & Wesson and drill a couple holes into the people who promised him happiness that he never received.

Why aren't you happy? Just go out and meet people, just be happy! Just be quiet. They never were.

He blinked a few tears of joy out and decided there's no time like beggin'time. He could see it all clearly in his mind- a hole here, a hole there; it made no difference. There were starving children dying in Africa for christs sake. Knocking off a few gluttonous consumers would be feeding them by proxy.  Yes. A hand reached into his coat pocket for the slightly protruding gun.

Now here were the stares he was looking for. They came one by one, sticking like glue to the gun. And then a scream. Fantastic.

"Everybody get out!" The hand slowly rose, aiming. He could feel electricity running through him, a sick paralyzing feeling. All he could do was stare as co-dependent mammals and their fuckprizes scattered and fled. But one stayed and he was by his side.

A pull of the trigger. Another and another. The sharp, precise roar of the gun left a ringing in his ears. He couldn't control his rage, he shot again and again into the head of that sick f**k. He had seen him walking into the restaurant. The predatory look on his face, the black clothes on such a hot day. The gun in his pocket. They'll call me a hero.