Challenge number 8: A Crime Story
One mistake, that’s all it took. One bad judgment call, and all he had ever worked for was destroyed. It wasn’t his fault a mass was growing inside his head, neutralizing his brain. It wasn’t his fault that the economy was a bag waiting in the driveway to be taken out. It wasn’t his fault that he could no longer pay for his son’s college tuition. He wanted him to be a lawyer. A respectable profession. A life where he wouldn’t have to struggle, wait in line for health care, beg for a meal and loose his dignity. He was compelled to buy the life he never had for his son.
His wife never loved him. She only fucked him because he was able to buy her Margiela jackets. Once the cash stopped she left. A miner looking for the next pit to dig. She left their son. After all he was the only parent in the family. Family, funny how we abuse that word. What really is a family? A group of people bound by common interest? A group of people obligated to care for each other? He had none in his case. All he had now was a deteriorating body and a smart kid. Life has served the legendary “lemons’.
The doctors wanted him to continue treatment. Not because his condition was curable, or that he was in a position to keep on paying, but because it was the orthodox thing to do. His bank account had a different view. Watering a dead flower?
Now he stands in front of the Flagstaff House. He had nothing to live for, his demise will only profit his son. He didn’t think of the millions of dollars he was being paid. He wasn’t thinking of the people who would die or get injured. He wasn’t thinking about the red mercury in his hand. All he thought about was a wasted life.
We are born to die. His death will birth a new life for his son. Family. He remembered a song, An Italian opera classic. Con Te partiro. How poetic. One mistake and now he had to lose his life.
He closes his eyes…. Presses the button. Countdown begins…10…9…8….7…..6……..5……4……….3……….2…….1. Beep.
One mistake. The bomb failed.