| Pastel Suicide |
Nov. 3rd, 2018|05:24 pm |
|
A warm, beautiful sunday at the mall. Rays of light play in the fountain, creating small colorful rainbows all around. The crowd is chattering and laughing. Smell of popcorn and corn dogs and celebration is in the air. I'm holding the pink balloon the woman gave to me by the entrance. It's a lovely pastel pink. It might even be my favourite. I gaze up and blink, as the light is so bright its almost blinding, even through the sea-green moisaic windows. Suddenly the crowd gasps and it feels like the air has gone cold and the colors have washed away to monochromatic matte. I see something move in a strange manner from the corner of my eye. As I turn around, the man has already placed the gun into his mouth and pulled the trigger. Its a loud noise, exactly like something out of a Hollywood movie, I recall. So they do strive for a realistic approach. The man slowly falls to the floor and I can see through the hole in the back of his head. Again, just like I would expect it to be, edited nicely in a film. The crowd has turned into a thick wool, covering all exits of the mall. I feel my stomach churn, my head fills with a strange darkness and theres a bit of red on my coat. I would really like to get away, but the worst thing is - I don't remember where I parked my car. |
|