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the shooting Free essay! Download now

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the shooting

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Downloads to date: N/A | Words: 531 | Submitted: 07-Sep-2011
Spelling accuracy: 49.0% | Number of pages: 1 | Filetype: Word .doc

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a short story


The Shooting
I have waited a long time for this. Everything in me has lived for this moment, when I will finally get revenge. He must be punished for what he did. I didn’t know if I would have the guts to do it, but I had to try. I had to stick to my plan.

I waited in the park. It was a cold winter’s night, August 10th 2010. Exactly a year after it had happened. The date my wife was taken from me. Her death was all his fault. He was her doctor. If he had have tried harder, he could have saved her. Kate would never have given up on life. We were perfect for each other. He was going to pay for his actions, and follow her to the grave.

It was a quiet night. I was so nervous, and all these questions were going through my head. Should I do it? Could I do it? Was it worth it? Then I heard him, gradually walking through the night, gravel crunching under his feet. Moonlight shone down from above. I sat on the fountain waiting. As the doctor got closer, my breathing became heavy, and my heartbeat quickened. This was it.

I called out to him, my voice shaky and nervous. He recognised me, smiled, and started walking towards me. Little did he know his life was about to end. When he got closer, I smiled and greeted him.

“Good evening, Doctor. I need some help, I dropped my ring in this fountain, and I can’t see it.”
He seemed to not hear me, “Hey John! How are you? I just came from the pub down the road, have you ever been there? I highly recommend it.” He continued to babble on about his evening, the smell of alcohol polluting the air. I interrupted, pointing to the fountain “I- I’ve lost my ring, why don’t you come over and have a look?” He leant over the fountain’s edge looked in. Slowly, I stood up. My heart pounded against my chest and my body was drenched with sweat. “Where exactly did you drop it?” he asked. “Near the middle, a little to your left.”

As he leaned over the fountain’s edge, I reached into my jacket. Carefully, I took out my gun. I held it to his back, ready to shoot. “You killed my wife!” I screamed at him. My emotions poured out. I was shaking uncontrollably. “You let her die! You’re a doctor, but you couldn’t save her. You wouldn’t save her!” He opened his mouth, but I didn’t want to hear it. Without thinking, I pulled the trigger, and the shot rang through the night. He fell backwards, and I watched his ...

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