Luke was gone. He found the one thing he always knew was waiting for him, a bullet with his name. The buzzers were going off. Why could he hear them?
“Where am I?” he wondered aloud.
He left the hospital, somehow, and was in a dark corridor. Voices, they echoed in his head.
He looked around at the nothingness. A darkness, filled with only doors.
Finally, Luke chose. He opened one door and a force pulled him inside.
Luke was in his past, reliving his worst sin. As a rookie, Luke shot a boy. He watched himself, planting the gun.
About the Creator
Jason Ray Morton
Writing has become more important as I live with cancer. It's a therapy, it's an escape, and it's a way to do something lasting that hopefully leaves an impression.
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Comments (1)
How often do we find ourselves haunted by such guilt-sodden memories. Such guilt is not the sole province of officers trying to cover up & get away with a mistake.