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Murder Monologue

Inspired by a Nightmare

By Teya HooperPublished 6 years ago 1 min read
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Wake up.

There’s a silence in the air.

Where am I?

Look up,

sun burns my eyes.

Taking in the surroundings,

Nothing looks familiar.

Rickety old car, rusted to nothing.

Ground is cracked,

From the sun burning so harshly down.

The cracks are like little spider webs,

Like the ones on all the cars.

Car graveyard.

That’s what I’ve woken up in.

Piles and miles of dead vehicles,

Though the cars don’t run,

Their ghosts do.

Dirt crunches under my feet as I stand.

I begin to walk, leaving my own trail

Of footprints with the trails of cracks.

Movement is slow,

Mind is on high alert.

Taking in the vehicles around me,

What are their stories?

What once was a yellow school bus,

Is now a brown and decaying box.

Speedy racecar,

Once won so many,

Has now lost life.

Little mini van that carried children,

Carries molded crumbs and dusty cups.

Empty shells.

All of them.

CRACK!

Gun fire?!

My eyes shoot every direction,

Looking for the source.

I take off sprinting towards the sound,

People could be in danger.

Must save them.

More gunshots strike my ears,

As a chain link fence comes into view.

I stop.

Pondering if I should climb.

Too late.

A man has already jumped over,

Landing next to me.

I don’t know this man.

He does not look familiar.

He raises his arm,

But it’s not a handshake he’s wanting.

I’m staring down a barrel.

I open my mouth to speak,

Hold hands up to show peace.

But before I can utter a single word,

A bullet has already left its dark home.

I crumble to the ground,

The feeling vibrating through me.

I can feel the shot everywhere.

Wake up.

There’s a silence in the air.

Where am I?

Look up,

Wait…

I’ve done this before…

Why must I relive my own death?

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