Death

A Story by Abz27

The evidence was hidden, the body was buried, and everything went on as
if nothing had happened. There was no record of the murder, no
fingerprints to prove it, and no witnesses... That were alive, at least.
I was the murderer. Of course, all of this would be a good thing for me
but for others... It just led to misfortune. So badly, I wanted out of
the business but it was a do or die sort of thing. I was born into the
business, bred into it. Really, I've known no other way. My first murder
was held on my fifth birthday. I was trained so well that when I killed
the innocent, I walked away without a care in the world. The blood lust
was shone brightly in my eyes. I killed the man cleanly with a small
dagger which I keep to this day. My last murder was last week in the
center of a crowd. It was in a city and I was up high on a building. I
trained my sniper scope on the woman's head and pulled back the trigger.
She fell to the ground with blood poring out of the wound. The crowd
freaked and ran every which way. Around me, my partners opened fire with
their machine guns. As the last bullet was shot, I noticed all of the
bodies we would have to clean up. That day, I ran away from the
business. Now, my past partners are after me by commands from the boss.
It has been a week and I am still on the run. I have dodged bullets, hid
myself away, and I nearly escaped death. Still, I am on the run.