The Sentence
It’s been said that evil times are always begun with some kind of dark omen. Tonight, when I walked out of my house I noticed the blood red moon in the sky. A few wispy clouds were moving slowly, partially covering it. I took a deep breath and started walking. I was tired and brooding. Deep in thought I made my way to the bar a few blocks away. Usually at this time of night there’s always some kind of noise from people yelling at each other, police sirens wailing, even the occasional gunshot. But it was dead quiet, and you know I got that eerie feeling that something was watching me.
The bar I was walking to, was this seedy, dirty dive hole in the wall. In fact it was called the Hole in the Wall. It was never full. And as far as I can tell every time I’ve walked in the song Along the Watchtower was always playing. Whenever it stopped the bartender would always put a few dollars into the jukebox. Always it was the same song. I sat down at the bar counter and ordered a few shots straight tequila and a beer chaser. After the first three shots, and nursing the beer I was staring at the counter. Reading all the words cut into it. One sentence caught my eye. “Death comes to all, how would you want to die?” That was pretty creepy to me. After sitting there for a while the bartender was in front of me asking me if I wanted another beer. I told him a few more shots as well. Now being broken out of my daze I scanned the rest of the patrons. In the far corner to my left, a man dressed in all manners of thick coats, scruffy, dirty beard sat muttering to him self. I could not hear what he was saying. The table behind me held a man and woman, laughing together like I was the butt of their joke. Have you ever had that déjà vu feeling or something nagging you in the back of your mind? Something didn’t add up but I couldn’t work it through. That’s when I made the biggest mistake of my life. I asked the bartender who wrote that sentence. The music stopped, no more insane mutterings, no more laughing from the couple behind me. It was dead silence. The bartender looks me in my eyes, stone cold, and says the words “You did”.
My heart stopped beating for a second, I felt a cold shiver.
“Son” the Bartender says “you wrote that and put enough money on the table for me to retire” In fact right here a year ago you told me when you came back and asked about that sentence on the table, I was to do as you asked me that night” That night you told me to my face you wanted to die the next time we met.”
It was then I felt a cold sharp stab in my neck and a liquid fire searing in my body, and then nothing. When I woke up I was back in my house, it was dark in my room, it reeked of stale beer and food spoiled for days. I started to retch, blood coming out of my mouth, and a terrible pain in my stomach. As I rolled off my bed I noticed the writing on my bedroom mirror.
“You Chose to never die”
