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.
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