J.D. Salinger's Nine Stories

A Perfect Day For Bananafish
Author's Note: This is a poetic response as well as a bit of putting it in a situation similar to J.D. Salinger's A Perfect Day For Bananafish

The feeling is always felt

The feeling of the gun in your hands

The sound is always in your ears

The sound of explosions and screams

The taste is always in your mouth

The taste of sweat and sand

The smell is always in your nose

The smell of decaying bodies and gun powder

The sight is always in your mind

The sight of the blood pouring out of the gunshot victim

You want to forget

You want to have never happened

It sticks with you

It haunts you

Only you can feel it

Only you can be weighed down by its burden

"John, You write poetry? For FUN!?" inquired the cruel boy

"I... ah... Get lost!" the other boy screamed

"Why don't 'cha make me?" and with that John ran away, back to his house, he couldn't deal with school that day.

"Dad! Kids at school are making fun of me again! I hate it! I might as well just kill myself. It'll be so much easier than dealing with THAT all the time, and besides, you and Mom won't have to deal with a disgrace to the family name."

"Don't you ever say something like that again!" his father raged, "You will never talk of killing yourself or another! You don't know what its like. To actually pull the trigger, and see a man go down because of you. it kills you on the  inside, but everybody says it the 'right' thing to do." he had just hit the deepest drop ever, hearing your child say they will kill them self. It sent him into an instantaneous depression. He went up the stairs and the back of the house, and into the attic. He then opened the bottom drawer, he always thought he would only use it for protection, this is a different kind of protection, just the protection of numbing. He laid down, and slowly brought the gun to his temple.