The door to the roof swung open and a man, carrying a black guitar case on his back, stepped forward. Dressed in a black trench coat he could not yet feel the harsh cold wind that was blowing at his back. He stepped up against the edge of the building. He looked up from his hooded coat and look side to side; nothing was there to stop him. He knelt down and put his case next to him. He slowly unzipped the cover and pulled out a rifle, a sniper rifle. He felt the cool metal through the gloves. He stoked it, and looked proudly at it. “Today the one who has given me so much pain shall die.” He thought to him self, looking at the reflections of the dark clouds in the polished material of the barrel. He loaded the next clip into the gun, hearing the small click he smiled. It was happening, at last all his planning was going to pay off. He lied down on the roof, aligning his sights with the doors of the building across from him. “He would have to walk through those doors, he must…” the promise of vengeance had nearly driven him mad. He pulled the latch back, loading the next bullet in the barrel. He was starting to feel the wind against his face. To his left he heard the small engines of cars pull up. He closed his eyes.
His mind floated back to when she was still alive. Everything from when they met in the summer of ’92 to the day she had died in 2010. He should have been there when she died, there was no reason he should not have been. She was at home cooking dinner awaiting her husband. She walked to the window and looked down at the street. The cars had stopped moving for a moment, and then she knew it, she was going to die. As quickly at the feeling came, a bullet from behind her hit her head. It was a message from a crime lord, Stay out of my business. He walked in 15 minutes latter, carrying a box. He was working late again, voluntarily, he felt she should have something for her wait, so he got her a gift; it was a gold necklace of a crow, her favorite bird. After that day he quit the police and vowed to extract his revenge. He opened his eyes again, kissed the crow necklace, then let it rest next to his heart again. As he looked back in his sights the hood of a white limo was on the bottom. He had it all planed, nothing could go wrong, as the crime lord walked out he would squeeze the trigger hard, and he would feel the kickback, the satisfaction of revenge. In the sights a door flew open, and a little girl jumped out. His eyes widened. “no, No, NO. This villain has a daughter? HOW CAN THIS BE?” his plan had shattered before him. He could not do to this little girl what this crime lord had done to him. He could not take the life of someone loved, but how could he get his revenge? He slowly pulled the gun away, and sat up, he started to cry. Why did he have to have a child with him? His mind was racing for reasons to shoot this man, but every time he thought of one, the girl came back. As vile as this man is, he has a family. I cannot do that to his family. But what do I do? He sat there, crying, right then, the wind picked up, as though to answer his question, but in a language he did not understand. Then he heard it, “join her” it called he looked around, but no one was there. “join her” it cried from the deep recesses of his mind, “yes, yes I will” he reached in to his pocket and pulled out a picture of his wife, and him in his uniform. He reached in to his other pocket, and pulled out his pistol. He put the gun in his mouth, and called out Jean, as he slowly pulled the trigger.
The little girl on the ground had stopped when she heard it, “Daddy; what was that sound?” she inquired. He knew that sound all to well, a gunshot, from an old 9mm hand pistol. “Nothing Sara, just thunder.” He stepped close to her, and put his arm around her. She smiled and gently skipped ahead, “that was loud though, very loud. Like it came from a building.” He smiled at her, she had his wit, “Yes it did, now come on we must not be late for your Mother.” She shrugged and waited for him, they walked together in to the building.
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