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Brain Snap

28 Sunday Feb 2021

Posted by stevenjohnno in Uncategorized

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Tags

depression, family, guns, insomnia, suicide

It is a little past ten at night and my body clock is telling me that i really should stop watching crap on TV and go to bed.

I turn off the turn and make my way towards the bathroom ‘Where do you think you are going’ my brain demands. I sigh in frustration because i was hoping that i could just go to bed without being noticed because i honestly can’t remember the last time that i had a good nights sleep ‘ It is still early and i have a lot more thinking to do before i shut down for the night.’

I tell my brain that i had a really rough day at work and that i really need to get some rest because i have to do it all again tomorrow.

All i get in response is a laugh so i know that i am in for another sleepless night.

I set my alarm for 5am and roll over on my right side which is my usual routine, as my breathing slows i hear the crickets outside singing me a lullaby.

I am grateful for their help but i have heard the song before and i know that my brain is about to fill my head with all sorts of useless imformation.

‘Why did you pay $1.50 a litre for petrol today when it was $1.41 just down the road?’

‘You bought a bag of kibble for Fido last when you know that he prefers meaty chunks why?

‘Did you turn the stove off?’

‘I can see light under the bedroom door did you remember to turn off the light in the kitchen?’

I am now 32 years old and i have had trouble sleeping for as long as i remember so i decide to try a different approach tonight.

Instead of ignoring my brain hoping it will get tired of talking to itself i reply to my inner voice in the hope that it will just shut up and go into sleep mode.

‘I know i should have gone to the other petrol station but i really couldn’t be bothered’

‘And he reason why i bought the dry food for Fido was because it was on special and i thought he might like to try something different’

‘I didn’t use the stove tonight so o know it is off and yes i am positive that i turned the kitchen light off now shut the fuck up and go to sleep thank you’

I toss and turn for a while expecting a reply but when none is forthcoming i smile close my eyes and begin to drift off.

‘Did you lock the back door? Because if i remember correctly there was a break in down the road last week’

Sighing i cover my face with a pillow in the hope of silencing the voice but it doesn’t work ‘You really should go and check because you don’t know who could be lurking outside’

Throwing the sheet aside i climb out of bed ‘OK you win i will go and check and hopefully when i come back you will be quiet for the rest of the night;

I rattle the handle and sure enough the back door is locked, i also check the stove while i am up and once i am satisfied that all is well i stumble back to bed.

The time is now 2,23 in the morning and i am still awake ‘Do you want to play a game of I Spy because after all your alarm will go off in a couple of hours so you wont get much sleep anyway’

I spy with my little eye something beginning with B.

My alarm blares so i hit the snooze button in the hope of getting a couple more minutes of sleep but my brain has other ideas ‘Get out of bed you lazy turd, two hours sleep is enough for anybody.

As i said insomnia has always been a big problem for me, I am a worrier , i worry about about any insignificant thing and then i would worry about my constant worrying.

Going to sleep at night is a struggle and somethings i would think about ending it all and going into a permanent sleep but thankfully my brain seemed to sense when when was time to settle down at nights and for a few months i would get a decent amount of sleep every night but than my over thinking and worrying would come back and my brain would again go into overdrive.

Over the years my doctor has prescribed me different types of pills and potions to help me sleep but none have really helped.

Also i have tried yoga meditation and deep breathing exercises to help me relax but again with limited results.

It is now early spring and the last six months my insomnia has grown steadily worse, i average about an hour and half of sleep a night so my days are torture because most of the walk i walk around like a zombie barely able to function and so on the morning of 2nd September i enter a gun store down the end of my block and buy myself a rifle that the guy behind the counter said would stop an elephant in its tracks.

Finally i am taking control of my life even though i am about to end it.

Once home i put the rifle in the hall closet and than like a prisoner on death row on the day of his execution i wonder what to have for my last supper.

I think back to when i was a kid and my favorite back then was leg of lamb with roast pumpkin and mashed potatoes so i go to the grocery store and buy the ingredients for my final meal before i meet my maker.

Two hours later the lamb is cooked to perfection and the vegetables are just how i like them.

I eat slowly at first but i am only delaying the inevitable so i gobble down the rest place the plate in the sink then go to the closet and grab the rifle, my liberator if you will.

Taking a seat i remove my shoes and socks get comfortable then after putting the barrel under chin place my big toe on the trigger and get ready to squeeze.

My brain decides that just this second is the right time to start talking ‘What are you doing Kevin?

I don’t wish to reply but i do any way ‘What does it look like you little fucker, this is all your fault , if only you learnt to keep your mouth shut when i am trying to sleep than none of this would be happening’

My toe gently squeezes ‘You do realise that when you pull the trigger i will be splattered all over the wall behind you?’

‘Yes i am quite aware of that eventuality now just shut the fuck up so i can get down to business’

‘Um i don’t mean to ask a silly question but did you put any bullets in the gun?

My heart stops for a second but i distinctly remember loading the gun so tell my brain to back off ‘Nice try but no cigar’

I toe is getting a cramp but does as ordered and squeezes once again.

blurp blurp blurp plurp

I look over to the coffee table where my mobile is lit up like a christmas tree demanding to be answered ‘Jesus H fucking Christ can’t a man kill himself in peace anymore?

Taking a deep breath i tell myself that five minutes wont make any difference so i put the gun on the carpet and pick up the phone.

The screen tells me that my little sister Irene is the culprit calling but i haven’t talk to her in a long time so i answer ‘Hello sis so how is married life treating you?

She has been married for less than a year and seems to be happy ‘Couldn’t be better Kevin but i am not interrupting anything am i because i hear some tension in your voice’

‘I am fine just a little tired is all’ In case she also has x ray vision i walk over and kick the rifle beneath the couch.

We chat for over an hour about the fun times we had when we were kids and about our parents who are both enjoying retirement down in Tasmania.

Listening to my sisters voice takes all the tension and fatigue out of my system but i now realize that had i gone and killed myself i would of left a lot of grief and heartache behind.

When i say goodbye to my sister i empty the rifle and throw the bullets in the trash then dismantle the gun and put it under my bed for a rainy day.

That night i watch a little TV then go and brush my teeth before going to bed, as i brush my brain pipes up ‘I am sorry for all the crap i put you through and from now on i promise to let you sleep uninterrupted’

I must admit i am skeptical but i happily finish my dental care before toddling off to bed.

At 3am i am woken by my brain ‘I know that i promised not to talk but i am bored so why don’t we play a game or talk about the weather or something’

My brain might have kept on talking but i had already switched off and fallen to sleep.

THE END

Thanks for reading my story, if you have the means could you make a small or large donation so that i can finally achieve my goal of becoming a fulltime writer, thanks again Steven.

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Sewing Machine Man Part Two (Janome On The Loose)

11 Friday Mar 2016

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories, Uncategorized

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Tags

guns, knives, murder, revenge, sewing machines

In Part One we saw the Owner of a Mexican Sweat Shop

Mr Mendez AKA The Sewing Machine Man

Kill two of His Female Employees.

He Killed them then Stitched their Mouths and Eyes shut

With His trusty Janome Sewing Machine.

But Mr Mendez was arrested by the Police.

After a tip off from His 2IC at the Sweat Shop Alejandro.

But He slipped out of His Handcuffs and disappeared

into the Night.

Now to Part Two.

For the past few Months the Sewing Machine Man has been

hiding out in the Sunny Mexican Countryside.

Waiting for the heat to die down.

He has making a living using His Janome for what it is

designed to do.

Sewing Curtains Tailoring Clothes to fit.

And making Alterations.

But a Sewing Machine is His Weapon of choice.

Whenever Someone crosses Him wrong

He uses His Machine to Sew Their Eyes closed.

So they can no longer See.

Then He Stitches Their Mouths shut.

So they no longer have a Voice.

He is still seething about Alejandro.

He knows that He was the one to call the Cops.

And the Sewing Machine Man was almost thrown

in Jail.

But He escaped from the Police.

And He gave Himself Bail.

But the Sewing Machine Man is out of practice.

He has only Killed twice.

And He really likes the feeling.

And it wants to feel like that again.

So He closes the Door of His Motel Room.

Let the pain begin.

He doesn’t have to walk far.

When He comes across a Hooker plying Her Trade.

So He invites Her up to His Room for a little fun.

When the Hooker goes to the Bathroom to freshen up.

Mr smothers His Handkerchief in Chloroform.

Then He gets ready to pounce.

When the Hooker reappears He quickly drowns Her in His

Hankie.

The Sewing Machine Man is all Business.

He has no time for Hankie Pankie.

His M.O (Modus Operandi) is to Sew His Victims Eyes and

Mouths closed with His Janome.

And then hang them up wrapped in a White Sheet like a

Human Cocoon.

And that is exactly what He does.

Just so the Cops know that He is back in Town.

After showing all of His Sewing and Wrapping skills

He Hangs the Hooker upside down in a Tree.

The Sewing Machine Man is back.

Looking for some thrills.

Alejandro is living at His Parents Place pissing

in His Pants.

The Cops have been around to inform His that Mr Mendez.

has Killed again.

And maybe Alejandro should move Interstate.

And we mean right now.

If You want to stay Alive

Go now before it is too late.

But Alejandro has some misplaced confidence.

He is a better Man then Mr Mendez.

Surely He is safe at His Parents House.

He hasn’t worked at the Sweat Shop in over Six Months.

He is living over 500 Miles from there.

But He will keep an Eye out.

Surely Mr Mendez wouldn’t come here.

He wouldn’t dare.

But Mr Mendez isn’t afraid of Alejandro or the Police.

And He knows exactly how to track Alejandro down.

He just has to break into the Sweat Shop.

And hope that the Password on the Computer hasn’t been

changed.

So the next Night He enters the Sweat Shop through an

unlocked Window.

He goes straight to His old Office.

And He is lucky.

The Password on the Computer is unchanged.

He clicks on the Employee Icon.

Then He types in Alejandro Cortez and His next of Kin.

And there in the middle of the Screen for the whole World

to see.

Is His Parents Address.

He is not 100% sure that Alejandro is at His Parents Place.

But it is a good place to start.

So He packs up His Janome and jumps in His Cat.

He only has a Four Hour drive.

Besides His Janome He has also packed a Gun with a Silencer

And a Knife with a Razor sharp Blade.

Alejandro and Mr and Mrs Cortez should now be afraid.

Very afraid.

Using His GPS He locates the House nice and easy.

And He parks right outside.

Carrying His trusty Sewing Machine He knocks on the Front

Door.

And in His other Hand He holds the silenced Gun.

Now the Sewing Machine Man can have a little fun.

As soon as the Front Door opens He Shoots Mrs Cortez Dead.

Then with His Knife He slices the Screen Door open.

And He sidles right on in.

Where He is confronted by Mr Cortez.

Without hesitation He Shoots Him in the Chest.

Now to find Alejandro His number one Pest.

Alejandro hearing all of the commotion tries to make

it to the back Door.

But He only gets Three Metres before He is Shot in the

Kneecap.

As Alejandro lays on the Floor He is Shot twice more.

And both of His Elbows are shattered.

The Sewing Machine Man walks up to Him.

And He pulls down His Pants.

And with one slice of the Knife.

He cuts off Alejandro’s Cock and Balls.

Alejandro is in agony and disbelief.

And He screams the Paint right off the Walls.

Then He is silenced as His own Dick and Nuts are shoved

down His Throat.

Then He is dragged to the Janome

And Alejandro’s Mouth is stitched closed.

Then just as He goes to stitch Alejandro’s Eyes.

The Cortez Phone starts to Ring.

And He stitches His own Thumb to the Machine.

And just like Alejandro He starts to scream.

Jesus the pain is intense.

He closes His Eyes and yanks Himself Free.

He packs up His Janome.

Then He gets the Fuck out of there.

Already His Thumb has swollen to double its normal

size or more.

He is losing a lot of Blood as He leaves by the Front Door.

But there is worse to come.

Because He used the same Needle to Kill all of His Victims.

It is covered in Bacteria and Germs.

Now the Sewing Machine Man has one nasty Infection

Maybe He should of changed Needles on reflection.

His Thumb is really throbbing.

It is Green and Black and full of Pus.

And because He didn’t apply a Tourniquet

The Infection is travelling up His Arm.

Soon it will enter His Brain.

The Sewing Machine Man is sitting in His Motel Room

He knows that the end is almost here.

He goes to the Bed.

Then with the Gun He shoots Himself in the Head.

There is no one to Mourn Him.

And He is Buried in an unmarked Grave.

And His Janome is Buried with Him.

But now that He is Six Feet Under

He can no longer misbehave.

THE END

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and now could you please make a donation so i can reach my goal of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again.Steven.

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