The Kill

I am a being that kills.

The night is my shield, protecting me from the risks that come with the job.

But tonight, I am afraid I will lose my cover. It’s getting difficult to hold back. The scope of my sniper rifle is fogging with tears. My fingers are quaking, holding on for dear life on the trigger.

“Come on, pull yourself together,” I sniffle. Tonight’s kill will assure that my daughter and I can continue to live in our apartment. The 300,000 dollars will cover years worth of rent, and I can even afford anything else she wants.

Yet the urge to pull away beckons me over. Louder it calls to me. Louder it screams until…


My target has been aquired. The bullet is lodged deep into her skull, bleeding out onto the street. The coppery smell mixes with her lilac perfume, wafting up to my nostrils.

“I’m sorry, my love,” I climb down the building’s rusted ladder into the alleyway below. Her tiny frame is easy to cary, easy to discard. “This is for Selena, and you know how much I care for her.”

I place her onto a pile of rancid trash bags. It takes everything in me not to wail in agony. My hands instinctively reach into my pocket, wrap around the small ring box inside.

“And if making sure my daughter lives a wonderful childhood means that you’re gone, then so be it.” I whisper. “Rest easy, darling.”

The weight of agony and guilt slows me doen in the ascent up the ladder. I climb every rung with shame, but the prospect of coming hope to my daughter as happy as ever prevents me from stoping.

And I will make sure, for as long as she lives, that she never finds out about this.

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