Freedom in falling

I wrote this on the spot, the only thing that got it started was the first sentence and playing around with that concept.
I understand the grammar and punctuation is way off, that's not my concern at this point as it's best to write out ideas before trying to fine tune it.

It’s an amazing sensation hearing the finest details of life that you hum over every day when you’ve accepted death.
The waves crash against the soft rocky earth down below the cliff, so faint but so crisp sounding.  My eyes are open but it’s very much day out, the birds are chirping, the wind is gently brushing the leaves  on the trees around.  Life is exactly as it is, and will remain so even when I’m gone.  The blind fold around my eyes and the tape binding my hands together behind my back remind me however of what evil exists in this world.
Every decision, every regret, and every happy moment in life has leaded me to this point, to the final conclusion of what my life was and became. It’s so ironic how some of the most difficult decisions we make in life truly aren’t so difficult when you’re looking back at them near your final moments.

Oh god that metal flavor in my mouth resurfaced, the taste of blood brings me back to the moment at hand.  I can hear them, talking behind me panicking and pacing.  They’re arguing about when to do it, when to finish me.  The one however persists they wait for the call.  Oh if only they were in my shoes hearing them talk like this, stringing my life along, flaunting their egos really – the power they have over my life and they talk like I’m not even here.

It’s incredible really, the mentality they have to behave like this.  Do they not realize I have a family too, just like the one fellow waiting for the phone call.  Him and I share something in common, we both have families, except he’s not being removed from his.  He can return to his wife and daughter when he comes home, I however will be returning to my family in those black bags.  All  I’ll be bringing are tears to my wife and kids eyes, a future of a broken home.  Yet these men pace behind me discussing plans for once the jobs done – I wonder what they could mean by that.

It’s terrible really your life hanging in the balance of a phone call.  What if it never came, would these guys take a rain check?  Would my torment be prolonged another day? 

There’s that sound again, the clicking.  He’s spinning the barrel of a gun, a revolver - it must be.  I don’t want to be here, I can’t be here.  I can’t die by the hand of some man, what will my family think of me?  I can’t die here, not like this.  I won’t ever see my kids grow up or my wife grow old, with me. 

I can feel my hands starting to sweat thinking about this, it’s too much.  All my senses are heightened, it feels like I can hear everything, I can feel everything but I see nothing.
This is sick, them standing there doing this, emotionless, fearless – cowards.  They’re cowards tying this piece of cloth around my eyes, won’t even look at me as they do it.  If only I could tell his daughter that, your dad killed me from behind, didn’t even look at me as he stole the life from me.

I begin to feel my throat dry up, my hands are clammy with sweat, my heart beat is quickening too. 

Just do it already, just shoot me and finish it.

The phone rings, my prayers are answered.  Please just tell them to finish me off.

I hear the man simply grunt in acknowledgment to this long awaited phone call.  I hear him finish the call and tells his guys, it’s time.

Oh my god, it’s time.  I have never felt my heart beat race this fast, everything is happening too quickly.  I hear him ask for the gun, he’s asking for one bullet.   I’m kneeling up straight, I’m ready.  I feel my hands trembling, my eyes are closed, please be quick.

I swear I can hear him take his time to line up the shot.  Then I hear a click.

The gun didn’t go off.  What is this, his attempt at a game with my life?  See how many times the gun choses life before it gives up.

He spins the gun.  Click again. 

I hear the guys laugh behind my back.  What is this a comedy?  Something funny about a gun not shooting someone?

The gun clicks again.

This time one of the guys tells him to hurry up and just do it.  I agree, just do it.  I can’t handle this.  I can feel my hands violently shaking as I have my fist clenched.  I'm joking back a sob, I have to be strong in front of them.

Alright, the guy says.  My head hanging now, I’ve got nothing left to give.

I hear the gun click again, and in that moment I felt a strong force ram into my back, launching my body forward and my neck flying back.  But it brought upon a sensation I’d never experienced in my life.  I felt free, I felt safe, I felt innocent, I felt like every burden I’d ever carried was lifted.  The wind picked up to a violently rapid gust pushing up against me as if it was trying to keep me up, but I continued to outweigh it.

I was finally free, my head clear and everything in life was lifted away.

The End

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