The Fall Of A Player. 20 (The End Of My Only Modern Based Drama. Enjoy. Thanks For Reading.)

The Player is standing there, the smoke from the gun can barely be seen. He'd never really fired a gun before. His wrist hurt a little. Tears are in his eyes. He looking at the boy in the chair. The boy is alive. He's beaten and bloodied, but he isn't shot. He's crying. The Player kneels and looks at the boy again.
"You're hurt. I can see that, more then you deserve. I'm hurt, more then you can see. I deserved it though. You...you don't even know what you caused. Why...can you talk?" The Player stands up and walks around him.
"It just...it fucking hurts. Fucking stop fucking with me and just shoot me I don't wanna die," The kid continues to cry. His words more rash then sensible.
"I'm not gunna kill you. You've been through enough. Life aint over yet though, don't think this is the worst of it. It's this strange kinda pain you know, you want something. It's right there, at your like. Your fingertips. So close, so far. Your guts aches, you can't quelch it, there's no cure. I don't what I'm feeling, all I know is I don't know how to get rid of it. I'm not me anymore. You put me in a hospital, but they didn't save me..." The Player starts crying softly. Holding in the most of his pain.
"I'm sorry...sorry. Please, I don't...my sister. You...I don't wanna die. FUCK!" The kid yells and the Player goes to the chair and starts undoing the knot.
"Yeah...your sister. You know, you should ask yourself, what kind of person sits down and talks with me after that. She met me in a cafe, for clarification. Clarification of what? There's some questions you should learn to answer on your own. My friends, got you because..." The Player finishes the knot and the kid falls to his knees out of the chair free. "They believed you almost killed me, and you did. Whether you meant to or not isn;t the point. The point is, somewhere in your life, you gotta look back...at all the things you done. Then you gotta choose, whats right, and whats wrong, and not by what anyone'll tell you. Not by the law, not by god's word, or whatever religion you follow, but by all you know, and all you've seen."
The Player takes a step back catching his breath from his own thoughts.
"Why? I...can't. I didn't mean to put you in a hospital, I just wanted to hurt you because I saw her cry and new you were the reason," The boy stands up barely.
"Go out the back. Your in more pain then you've ever been in your life, but so am I. Difference is...you'll heal, I'm pretty sure I won't," The Player walks out and throws the gun onto the machinary.
"I won't forget," The boy leaves just after the Player.
The Player gets into a taxi, and goes to Gerry's house.
"I just need the one more favor man. I need to size up my life you know..I'm, I'm in a bad way rite now. Please man, just this one last favor," The Player looking into his old friends eyes hoping for one last moment of compasion.
Gerry nods his head without words. Gerry takes The Player to his house, gets a backpack full of his stuff before anyone gets home. Then takes him to the bus stop. The Player leaves a note for Sergio and the other. Saying thanks, but he needed to go north to help his moms.
Gerry watches The Player get on the bus and leaves. The only thing he says is, "I'm gunna miss you man. Regardles of how much you fucked up. I'm a miss you dog."
The Player takes the bus to his mothers, he spends alot of his time there. He falls apart slowly, calling and trying to reach Ashanti. She doesn't answer, doesn't even respond. He gives up after a few months. He spends a lot of nights breaking into random tears and punching his wall. He finally gets a job but he doesn't seem the same. He doesn't talk or give much of a glance to women who pass him. He catches himself looking sometimes at the ones dressing to show off their looks but as soon as they notice him he looks away. Something in his stomach pulling like a weight, drowning the thoughts, the feelings. Hurting. His friends can't get in touch with him, he disapates from his surroundings. Doesn't get much sleep, drinks occasionaly, rarely. Keeps few company. His mind wanders. Eventually he can't shed any tears at all. Just hurts, no tears left. Spending most of his days thinking.
Three years go by.
He finds a number on the internet he's been searching for, a name he finally got a hold of. Jaqulyn Quinn. The mother of his child.
"Yeah, I know...I'm not high on the list of people you wanna talk to. Desmond is my son though right. Maybe you don't love me, maybe I don't love you, I don't really know how love happens or why. I wanna be a father to my son tho, if anything thats right. I mean I'm not just tryin to change I am...I been workin you know, savin money, tryin ta be a better man," The Player's voice sounds different, rougher. His accent's almost changed.
"How you got my number? What makes you think I'll listen to a word you say? You been full of lies your whole life and its been years since I even heard your name. What the hell do you expect to hear from me? Ok, ha. You can't just call somebody you got pregnant up after they been through 1000 fuckin diapers and half the heartbreak of hearin from their own family how they had a kid with a nobody and should of got an abortion to save the kid the trouble. I let you back in to my life or Desmond's...why? How I can't be sure you just won't be the same man I should of stayed away from in the first place. Only thing good ever came from you is my baby. What makes you think you any different then you were? That you can raise him? Cause I won't let him be like you," Jaqulyn speaks angrily but not loudly on the otehr end of the phone.
The Player rubs his eyes and cringes his brow looking around him. He thinks, of what to say of how to say it. He stops. "I don't know. I just want to tell you the truth. I don't have anything else anymore. I mean...it's my son. When everythings gone, the least I can do is help make him better then me. I just want you to believe me, you gotta belive me on this. I just want to tell you the truth. I'm tired of lyin...I am so fuckin tired of lying..."
One tear drops from his eye...
Thank you very much for finishing the story with me. I hope it affects you in a good way. Its the most detailed and adult like story I've ever written but I think it has a good morale take on the life we live. The mistakes we make. Hopefully it'll make a good book one day when I get to it. Ratings and messages are aprreciated and asked for I know most of us don't do it as often as we want others to do it. But it is, the end of the story. Be well.
-KIDSANDRIFF