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I advanced towards her and I instantly raised the gun to shoot her and---
“Stop!” She yelled in desperation, “I haven’t done anything wrong. You have
the wrong person.”
I laughed diabolically at her, “It is because you did nothing that you are to
be killed.”
“Who sent you to killme?”
“That is for you to think of in heaven.”
“Please---Don’t killme I have to earn formy family, I need to take care of
them. I worked hard to come into this
position for them.”
“Do you think I care?” I asked with an evil smile as I aimed the gun at her
chest.
BOOM!
I had pulled the trigger of the gun.
She toppled over with her chair and her eyes rolled up and it had a
translucent quality. Little had I thought of what that womanmay
havemeant. I really didn’t care then but now I can’t help but think I was too
callous. I never really thought about how that was related tome as
frommy parents’ death I had suffered. I had become amercenary to kill
the people who killedmy parents. I knewmore than anyone howmuch I had
suffered inmy childhood.Why would I want to kill a hardworkingmother
who only wanted to provide for her children? But why should I worry
about someone else?Why do I even need to feel sorry for them? The video
changed as I sawmyself when I was young. I was wearing filthy rags and
living on the hard stone streets. I had just lostmy parents andmy aunts and
uncles tookmy house and chased us out of it. They never cared for me,
they just wanted the property. I had spent a part ofmy life looking at the
red, blue, silver, black and white cars big and small and lories dashing
through the road. I had enjoyed killing the ones who did that tome
afterwards.
It seemed like the perfect revenge after my memories of looking sad as
when I begged for money earnestly people would just scoff meanly at me
or pass by without even noticing me. But this was until I was found by a
criminal organisation which helped me take revenge.
Looking at myself living so painfully, I was furious at the pain I had to live
within. Why had I wanted those lady’s children to live like that?
My memories started flashing with similar incidents. My mind was a whirl. I
was engulfed by my own sorrow at seeing all the incidents where I had
encountered people begging for life.
Why am I the way I am? Why do I really need to be so vicious?