Three hundred thousand. It sounded like a great price until I saw who I was dealing with. They didn't give me a name or any details but it was a girl. She stood with her back to me and her hair flowed down to her waist in waves. She was alone, that's the only assurance they ever gave me when work needed to be done. She was cleaning up small coffee shop with a wet rag in hand; it was a simple job. Or so I thought until she turned around.
Her skin was a sun kissed bronze. I should have taken the shot the second she turned but I froze. I watched as she pulled off her apron, revealing the small pouch of her stomach as her shirt rolled up. I raised my gun, finger on the trigger but her eyes looked up. Within seconds, I was mesmerised by her bright hazel eyes that contrasted with her skin, but she wasn't looking back at me. I continued to watch her through the sight of my rifle as she came around a table to switched the open sign to close.
I lowered my gun, for reasons I couldn't explain, and watched her take a set of keys from her pocket. Time was running out. There was no excuse why I didn't take the shot. There was no valid reason to walk away from easy money. It's been months since my last job, I need the money.
As the woman grabbed two bags of trash from behind the counter, she headed to the back of the shop. I started to move out. I had the perfect spot but I messed up. I ran across the busy two lane street; in broad daylight people were left unaware of me. A man dressed in black and a rifle slugged over my shoulder, though no one gave me a second glance.
Racing down the alleyway between the cafe and a residential building, the back open was wide open. I could hear the girl moving things around as she was humming loudly as her shift was coming to an end.
I needed to make this simple. Painless for both of us. I slid into the shop and I saw her once again. Her back was facing me as if the universe was giving me another chance to do my job. I raised my gun again to the unaware woman who was distracted by her phone.
But I froze for the second time, like a deer in headlights. I just stood there, almost breathless as she began to turn. Her eyes met mine for the first time and the sound the bullet made as it escaped the chamber made us both flinched. I could have missed or she could have dodge, but neither of us moved on time.
Time had slowed down as her body fell but I didn't hear her head hit the tile. The trash fell but I didn't hear the bottles break and splatter. Her cell phone fell but didn't make any noise as it hit against a metal prepping table. It was almost as if all sound had muted in that very room.
Regret started pulsing through my veins as the window of opportunity to escape was already starting to close. Still, I walked towards her looking into her eyes that were still open.
I've done this hundredths of times before, I knew exactly what to expect. But something was different. The blood steeping from her wound; normal. The blood forming a puddle around her; normal. But her eyes. Her eyes sent shivers down my spine as she was looking back at me. I almost expected her to blink and start screaming any second now. But she kept quiet.
I knelt down next to the body; wasting even more time. I ripped off my gloves and tossed them aside; purposely leaving evidence. But this time, I let my hands brush against the victim. I cupped her cheek despite the blood now staining my fingers.
I still had a job to do. I couldn't wait. I stood back up and grabbed the phone off the prepping table and done something I also did a hundred times. I took a picture, to confirm my killing. Though this time, it felt so wrong.
My hands were shaking as I pounded in a phone number and sent the picture with the simple message, 'Done - MTL'.
I dropped the phone where I found it as I started to flee.
But stopped, just outside the door as something almost unexplainable happened. My hands were clean. Blood was no longer smeared against my skin. That's when a loud gasp forced me to turn and grab my gun once again. But instead of seeing an innocent bystander who stumbled upon a murder. I saw the girl. She was sitting up with only a scar between her eyes instead of a gaping bullet hole.
"Did you just--" the girl stammered as her hand when to scar on my head. "Did I just--" she paused as looked not at me but the gun.
I dropped it quickly but not before she started to scream. I ran over to her, nearly tackling the woman as I covered her mouth with my hands.
"Don't scream," I warned.
She pulled my hand down, as she seemed to calm down a little bit too fast. "How am I alive," she asked revealing that she was more than aware that I had just shot her.
"I don't know," I answered truthfully. It didn't make sense but I already sent her photo. She's supposed to be dead. And sure enough in the distance I could hear the police sirens approaching.
"We gotta go," we said almost in unison that only made the situation even more unusual.
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