Eric Kimainham: A Short Story

The greatest joy in the universe is having someone to share your adventures with. Sometimes, that person is a relative or a significant other. Other times, it is your best friend. Ever since I met Eric Kilmainham in kindergarten, we have been inseparable. Our friendship arose from a casual encounter regarding the astounding box of crayons his parents had bought him. He was being teased by some boys, and I decided to act, as far as a four-year old can. I defended him and, thus, an unbreakable bond was created. After that interaction, I vowed to myself to protect him as far as I could. Since he was some months younger than me, I saw him not only as my best friend, but also as my little brother.

As we grew older, our friendship did not waver.

A minute too late, I realized he had been hiding a gun in the pocket of his grey hoodie. He had fired it at me. I had been his best friend who had believed in him when no one else had. I was simply helping him put his life back on track, albeit little by little.

After the initial shock, I felt a sharp pain on my midriff and stood frozen. I placed my hand over the wound, looked down, and noticed that my green shirt was tainted with my blood. Suddenly, I fell; all I could think about was the utmost betrayal I had been victim of. Eric stared, dumbfounded. He snapped out of it and hurriedly scavenged the place for something he could use to break the safe he had observed me open countless times before.

The pain was excruciating. I could not move. It felt as if my body was burning from the inside out. I was roaring nonsense mixed with curses at him, but all he was worried about was the money. He finally was able to find an ax in my storage room, which he used to forcibly open the safe. He took the money and ran away, without even glancing back at me or explaining why he had shot me. I stared at his retreating silhouette while coming in and out of consciousness.

He left me on the ground, as I was bleeding out, on the brink of death. He escaped without looking back and with no remorse or care for our