Here is a short story I just wrote called "Wasted".
By: George Gordy
I’m wasted. No, not wasted as in drunk or high. I mean wasted as in my entire life, thus far, has been a waste. I’ve wasted so many opportunities to do better out of selfishness and stupidity. My mistakes have caught up with me, and I don’t see the point of doing this whole life thing anymore. Should I end it all, right here in this bedroom? Should I put my loved ones through the shock and horror, of finding my lifeless body lying in a pool of blood? Should I take this gun here and put a bullet in my head? I mean, why shouldn’t I?
“It’s selfish! There are people out there who care about you!” Okay, forget suicide. Say I was driving on 695, I get hit by a truck and that’s the end of it. Would anybody really care? Sure they’ll dress me up real nice, put me in a casket, put my face on t-shirts, and throw me a nice little funeral. After a week nobody will care, and they’ll forget it ever happened. It’s not like I found the cure for cancer, was a famous celebrity, or a former president. I was a nobody who contributed little, if anything, to humanity.
“People who commit suicide go to hell!” Is Hell really worse than a worthless existence? Burning in a lake of fire for all eternity really worse than being a screw up? Is it worse than everyone hating you and hating yourself. Does God really care if I go commit suicide? I’ve been told my entire life that I was “fearfully and wonderfully made”. If God really gave a !@#$ about me, then why did he make me this way? Why does he put us on Earth to suffer, so that we spend our entire lives hoping that we die so we can go to Paradise?
So with all that being said, I have nothing to lose. Time to put an end to a wasted life. This Glock 40 has one bullet in it, for one purpose… Wasted.