SAMPLES > God's Bullet

Are you ready for me yet God? Is today the day? Do I finally get to meet you?

I load that gun every morning. Just one bullet and then I spin the chamber. Only God knows where that bullet is and it’s up to him to decide if that little projectile is going to come out the back of my skull.

You may think that I am a suicidal man but I can assure you I’m not. I live the best life that I can. I live by my beliefs and serve my maker. And I do it with unbridled gratitude and love. But each morning when I wake up, I reach for the Smith & Wesson that’s inside my bedside table and insert the bullet; just the one bullet. And I’m smiling when I do it. Most people when they get up will go and brush their teeth and kiss their loved ones; I like to play Russian roulette with myself.

That’s what I believe life is; a game of chance and luck. A game where there are no winners and no draws. It’s a game where everybody ultimately comes out a loser. No, loser is not really an appropriate word to use here. I don’t see death as losing; it is something that is sealed in our mortal fates. Yet it upsets me how, despite how advanced the human race has become, people are still frightened by God’s giving and taking away of life. I suppose the way I live is sort of like that whole cliché of not knowing when your time is up. I’m sure you have heard of the line “Well you could get run over by a bus tomorrow”. That’s how I feel everyday, only my quote is “God may decide to kill me today”. And that’s another point really, when I pull that trigger and the bullet is in the correct chamber does that make God a murderer? Or am I committing suicide? It’s not as if I am intending to kill myself, I have no control over when that chamber stops spinning and where the bullet comes to rest. That’s God’s choice, not mine.

Why am I doing it? No particular reason. I love my life; I have a very good life. But I also love my God and my religion. I am prepared to meet him and to thank him for giving me – and indeed the entire universe – a wonderful existence.

Having spent many years as a pastor I have fulfilled my duties that I am positive will secure me a spot in the palatial land of the afterlife. The Lord will smile at me and thank me for doing good work on Earth. Do you remember two years ago when that bomb was set off during that gay pride parade in America? That was me. Yes, God was pleased that I sent those filthy heretics straight to Hell where they belong. Two hundred and seventy three of those heathens are no doubt being tortured at the very hands of Beelzebub himself. God does not want their kind in His Kingdom.

So here I go. I pick up His Smith & Wesson and lay it to rest in my palm, its very form is perfect; barely a scratch or blemish upon it. The bullet is kept wrapped up in a white handkerchief. I could just as easily leave the bullet loaded in the gun and just spin the chamber every morning, but this way seems better. It feels a lot more ritualistic. It’s like unwrapping the hanky every morning is my way of telling God that I am ready to try again. I insert God’s bullet into a random chamber: Just the one bullet; just the one chamber; just the one gun.

The barrel enters my mouth. The feel of cold metal against the edges of my teeth irritates me, so I take care to make sure I avoid that and just rest it against my tongue. The barrel tastes bitter. My eyes look skyward. I am looking up at Heaven hoping that my creator is smiling at me. What is he thinking? He knows what will happen when I finally pull the trigger. He knows where that bullet is. Is he going to kill me? Does he feel I am ready to enter his Kingdom and bask in his infinite mightiness? We shall see.

With a prayer in my thought and hope in my heart I press my thumb against the trigger and give it its daily squeeze. I hear nothing, not even the clicking sound. I am instantly thrown back against my wall where I collapse to my knees. I then slump to the ground and the force rattles my rib cage. My vision is blurry and objects appear non-descript. I cannot hear. He finally did it. He wants to meet me at long last. I am happy. I will enter Heaven and smile upon my God. A light of pure brilliance engulfs my sight and the surrounding objects that were barely visible are wiped clean like a graffiti-ridden wall that gets covered over with white paint. I’m waiting for my maker who is in Heaven. I’m waiting for His sweet embrace.

Where are you, Lord?

Where are you?