It’s day four of my 30 Day Writing Challenge. Today’s challenge came from Lynn ‘ Hi! How about a short story /flash fiction about the reformed good guy? Someone who changed their bad ways but is learning that life is much easier when you are bad. Now they gotta choose what life they want to lead. Just an idea! ‘
If you want to help out by suggesting writing challenges for me, head over to here and give me something to write about!
I gotta stop myself from falling down these damn holes. I gotta pick myself up and look myself in the goddamn eye and say ‘Barnett, you tried. You gave ‘em what they wanted. And, it jest ain’t for you’. That’s what I gotta tell myself. And be damned what anyone else has to say on the matter.
Sure I repented for what done wrong. Yeah. Guilt hasn’t ever come easy to me. But goddamn I felt guilty. Showing me their kindness. Making an honest man outta me. I used to not feel nothin’. I used not to be anyone I wasn’t meant to be. And if people got hurt, or worse. So be it. They shoulddna crossed me.
So I guess I’m on a precipice. I like that. A big goddamn word. Like plateau. How do you like that fanciness? I’m looking down on old me. And I had it easy. No big words. No guilt. None of that bullshit. I just got on and done what I did.
But they took me and showed me kindness. They goddamn were nice to me. And they had no business showing me no kindness. No goddamn business.
Being grateful hasn’t ever come easy to me. But goddamn I felt grateful. And I felt guilty and remorseful. And they make me want to go off and do nice for people. Like I wanted to do it. And I done it too. I was like a fucking saint to them. Like a saint. I shouldda punched them square in their fucking faces, but instead I was a gentleman. I was kind. And kind hasn’t ever come easy to me. And it weighed on me. It weighed hard on me. Like a lead weight. Like being buried in sand. I was weighed down with guilt, and thankfulness, and kindness and all kinds of complicated shit.
And then that’s how we got here. Standing on the precipice so to speak. And I say to myself ‘Barnett, maybe you shouldna done what you just done. Maybe they was only been nice to you’. They all look happy now any road. They all look at like peace. And I done it quick like. I could of made them suffer. But they was nice to me. And they almost made a fucking saint of me. But like I said to myself, ‘yeah, they prolly don’t deserve what you just done. But by fuck did it feel good to be back!’