The Death : Flash Fiction

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I walked away from the funeral because it was getting a little bit emotional which is something that I have always hated my entire life. Of course the family of the deceased would be sad or even hurt that I left so early but at least my psychiatrist would be happy that I was finally showing some emotion even if it was temporary. It have always been a problem that he tried so hard to tackle and since I killed the pervious psychiatrist who happens to be his father, he have been trying his best to improve my condition. The family didn’t press charges, of course, because my old psychiatrist signed a waiver form of some kind saying that he was ok if I killed him.

I still went to court and there was a huge and long debate on whether of not I should be sent to prison but finally it was decided that I’m innocent as it turned out that he wanted to die all along. Of course some “family values” retards went on a full protest but it was shut down. That night, everyone said that they were wishing that they would join the dead man soon and so, I carried out their wishes. I shot the first five dead but I didn’t anticipate the size of the large crowd. Of course, they were begging for their life and what not but I was sure they were just acting. After all, who doesn’t want to die?

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