Two Sides

There's always two sides to every tale, someone's always holding the gun while the other is facing it.

Randy flicked his last cigarette and was about to head home when he felt a pair of hands on his back and was then pushed to the ground. Instead of hearing the usual, "F****t!" that came with this, he heard a loud boom that he was all too familiar with. When he thought it was safe enough, he turned around and found himself looking at Sam gasping for air while holding on to his chest as he collapsed to the ground. Behind him was Dylan with a startled look on his face and a gun in his hand. He must have been shaking bad because the gun fell down as he ran away from the scene. When Randy saw the weapon and looked back at his dying boyfriend, he realized what happened.
"He was after me," he thought aloud.
He scooted over to Sam and placed him in his arms.
"R-randy," Sam stammered out.
Randy shushed as his shirt and arms began to be covered in blood.
"Don't waste your breath,"
"I m-might as w-well,"
Sam suddenly started to look different. His slanted hazel eyes turned big and brown, his pointed nose turned smaller, and his lips were now plump and slowly losing their pink color. Randy now knew that he was about to lose his best friend, his only friend.
"I love you," he told him. It was the first time he had ever said those words ever since the death of his sister Robbie.
"Th-that's good to h-hear," Sam said with a faint smile on his face. "I love you too,"
Randy bent down, gave Sam's forehead a kiss, and continued looking down at him being slowly taken away from him.
"I-i'll tell Robbie you miss h-her,"
And with that, Sam stopped breathing. Everything was now dead silent, even the tears that Randy began to shed were quiet. He laid Sam's body on the ground and got to his feet. He walked towards the gun and picked it up. He opened it and saw that there were still a few bullets left...

Author's Note

I'm actually kind of proud of this story!

Reviews

[mikerich]

Graphically told so that everything that happens is easy to visualise. Good flowing prose pent up with emotion. But there's so much missing. I think you've written part of a story, not a complete story - this is the climax to the story, not the story itself. What happened to get to this? Why did Robbie die? Why was the trigger pulled? Why are they involved in a culture that features guns so easily? At the end, there are some bullets left in the gun - okay, does that mean he intends to kill himself or is he going to seek revenge for the murder? Why not go to the police? Why can't he go to the police? So many questions which you could, with such clear, clever writing (which you can obviously do) flesh out this incident into a full-blown, really interesting narrative.