I knew that perfection was always a long shot—in fact I never believed it to exist. No matter my location I brought my camera, just in case the situational perfection would arise. That afternoon, however luck may have presented it, I was staring straight in the face of perfection.

Stalking this couple through a two mile hike on an old bike trail was exhausting. The path, narrow and gravel. But the thrill was all the same.

I waited and finally caught the perfection I had been so vigilant about. The beautiful young couple sat on a log suspended over a stream. The man grabbed some sort of snack from his backpack and gave it to the woman.

My trigger finger poised, my breath steady. I clicked the button, only to find one person on the log. The other was face down in the stream, bleeding.

The woman looked back at me with a wicked grin and a sharp object in hand.

“Did you get the picture?” she asked. She then ran after me, took my camera, and through it down the stream.

I couldn’t speak. She grabbed me by the arm and twisted, and I couldn’t defend myself.

“How’s that for perfect?” She said as she drew out the knife.