A Bullet To The Head Doesn't Mean You're Dead

• Liam Borbas, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2012

“Next!” Fiercely ordered Mother Bernadette as the legs from the third Nun’s chair slowly descended onto the cathedral’s cool and smooth tiles.
“Alright Belinda, hop up there and be quick about it.” Spoke the Mother trying to calm herself down at the same time.
“Please Mother, just listen, I wasn’t meant-“recited Sister hoping that her apologetic speech would work until she was rudely interrupted.
“Just hop up there and shut up.” Crankily spat Mother Bernadette. She was so angry I could literally see steam rising from her ‘Nun Habit’. Belinda finally gave in and dropped herself down onto the hard, wooden chair. Then, one by one, mist surrounded each leg chair like four miniature rockets preparing for take-off. She then rose up to the arched ceiling and then…she disappeared into the unknown.
“Margaret!” Screeched Father Henry as his head slowly rotated around so that his wrinkly, old face could stare right into my smooth and precious skin.
“It’s your turn, and don’t even bother with arguing.”

My eyes slowly adjusted to dimly lit room, which I had recently vacated, as I, very difficultly, examined the environment around me. The air was cool and at the same time terribly damp and my chair was scarily un-balanced on the rough, cobbled ground.
“Hello…Is there anybody out there? What is happening? Hello?” Is what I curiously questioned as I attempted to stand up but then realising my hands were tied to the chair.
“What! Who tied me up like this, there has to be someone around here?” I asked myself in my head.
“Yes…someone is here…but that doesn’t matter to you, you’ll be gone soon enough anyway.” Murmured a rough and croaky voice.
“Please don’t hurt me, I love the Lord. I was never meant to doubt his almighty power.” I spoke trying to fight my tears and keep myself together.
“I don’t even know why you are trying to get out of this, you’re gonna die eventually…mwhahahaha!” Hysterically, howled the mysterious man getting louder and louder by each word. The room was then filled with silence and all of a sudden I started hearing frantic rustling from around the room when…brightness rushed into my eyes as if I was right next to the sun.

No, death hasn’t reached me yet. But in my mind I could sense that it was nearing me. As the lights came on I examined the old brick room more. The ground was covered in rocks of all shapes and sizes, a moss covering all sides of the walls and only a tiny bit of furniture scattered around different parts of the room. Besides the furniture in the room there was nothing in here at all except for the mysterious man and a black, shiny handgun lying still on a table in one of the room’s corners.

“Hello, I am Seymour, and as much as it hurts me to say it…I’m gonna kill you!” He threatened with his murderous mouth spread across his face.
“I am so sorry. Why? Why?” I questioned over and over again.
“Because of the way you acted Margaret, I just must.” He said whilst spinning around to reach for something.
“How come you know so much, I mean my name, what I did, everything?” I eventually spat out with fear as I realised what he was doing.
“Don’t worry it’s all going to make sense soon after I put you out of your misery!” He eerily, chuckled with the shiny, black handgun grasped in his dirty fingers.

“No! No! You have to be joking, aren’t you? A gun?!” I shrieked with tears now filling my eyes.
“Yes, yes, now hush up.” He grumbled placing the rough, metal barrel against my smooth skin. I could feel the gun slowly creeping forward, like a cat preparing to pounce, as he pushed back on the trigger when a loud noise rang out through the whole building…”BANG!”

It was all over, I had left this world! No longer would people see me as Sister Margaret Cransky of Westminster Abbey…or so I thought.

I slowly opened one eye lid and saw that the room was emptier than usual. “I must be in heaven.” I thought to myself until I saw Seymour’s corpse sprawled out on the floor. As one human had left the room another one had entered. From one of the poor room’s shady corners emerged Sister Belinda with a similar black handgun.
“Sister, you saved my life. But how?” I squealed with excitement.
“Don’t worry Sister Margaret, it’s a long story. Let’s just get out of here before we get into any more trouble.” She said still in shock about what she just did to Seymour. I could see the sadness in her emotions; they were escaping like burglars from inside of her and landing on her face.
“Don’t worry about it Belinda, someone was going to die anyway, the only difference was you chose who it was.” I shyly mentioned not knowing if it was the right moment to talk or not.
“It’s alright Margaret; you don’t need to cheer me up. Just worry about yourself you nearly died didn’t you? I will get over it sooner or later.” She replied with an un-stable smile slowly stretching out across her face. So as she ordered we exited the room at once, off we went, just Belinda and I.

The End

Epilogue
Together we started a whole new life in what we found was Paris. Each of us created a brand new identity as Frances Keeling (which was me) and Gaye Swanson (which was Belinda). We both started a new career as actresses. We didn’t get too much of a massive part but we featured in a very popular French musical called ‘Funny Face’. The most important part is that we never returned to Westminster Abbey, England as nuns again.