I was getting out of there. I knew for a fact. I didn’t care what happened afterwards, and it didn’t matter either. If Lucifer himself wouldn’t take me, then no one would. Not a soul. After three months of skin grafts and rehabilitation, I was free. I was covered in scars and I couldn’t even recognize my own face after it was burned and my beard burned off. Everything in my life was absolutely destroyed except for this. This was all I wanted now that I couldn’t have anything else.
After they gave me what they could salvage from the charred remains of my house, I immediately ran out of the hospital as best I could and hopped in my car. I went through everything and noticed my gun permit in my wallet along with my credit card and almost five-hundred dollars. It was a good day. It was the best day. I took that permit and all that cash and sped down to Cabella’s as fast as I could, buying myself a new revolver and plenty of ammunition.
Written With No Names
By: Shelby Jo Bradybaugh
An Excerpt