TIME TO KILL

She gets there. No one seems to be around. She’s hurt, doesn’t know how bad it is, but everything aches. She is all by her self and tries to pull herself together; it is not the worst medical emergency that Victoria’s been through. Patiently goes to the counter and rings a little bell, she hates being loud: Victoria speaks quietly, moves silently and acts efficiently. Those three things are the only way to act in life, she knows.

Her next assignment is tough, but she’s a tough girl.

By the time the doctor gets to see her, she’s already in pain. I am just a spectator in the scene. She is not supposed to know that I’m around. Victoria doesn’t know her fate, I do. I get paid for that. My name is Smith. Let’s leave it that way: Smith. And I think of my self as the one and only person better than Victoria to do any dirty job. That’s why I’m here, at the ER, with ears all over the place. I am here. And I am everywhere.

The doctor’s assistant is my informer. The money that I am giving him for this job is more than what he makes in a whole fucking year worth of hard work.  The doctor… it’s a different case. She –being a she makes it so damn hard– is decent. Fuck. And I just can’t get to work with decent people; I work with the bad guys, with the hungry guys: those who simply would sell their souls for money. I am one of the bad guys. Victoria is one of the bad guys.

One of us is about to die. And today ain’t gonna be me.

The doctor knows she’s got a broken elbow. She’s been around; she knows how a broken elbow looks like. Victoria needs surgery. The assistant wants to give her a sleeping pill.

Next thing I see is Victoria running through the door, broken elbow and everything, no sleeping pills, no nothing. Got to work out something different, my plans have just changed. Fucking assistant, fucking doctor, fucking Victoria, they’re all just the same: every fucking living soul in this planet is the same. I have to be careful, otherwise, I simply get killed. She might be waiting for me behind the door or hidden under my car ready to blow it up. She might be anywhere. She’s Victoria.

I need help. I came for a simple killing plan and now I need help: something doesn’t sound right. I go back to the ER and look for the assistant. I check if he knows something: I’m afraid of dying. The assistant is not there anymore. The doctor is bleeding. But… what the fuck! I saw her leaving, I saw her running out. Did she get to see me? I try to put my back against a wall, try to hide. No one can hide from Victoria. Then I feel the cold metal against my brains. I know I’ll die. Perhaps, many people before me have felt the same way. I close my eyes and wait for the noise. Bum! Bum! Bum! What’s happening? No bum? Silence, the cold metal is no longer touching my head. I look for the bleeding doctor. Not around. I search with a glimpse for the assistant. Not around.

It is my time to kill, not to die. I see Victoria through a mirror; she’s walking towards the room where the doctor lies, bleeding. But why didn’t she kill me? Perhaps she needs some information. She knows I’m there to kill her. I have a gun. I am willing to use it. I get paid for using it. Victoria gets closer. I pull out the gun. I can see her but she can’t see me. I hear a scream. Is the doctor; silence. Now she’s dead. Now I can’t get to see Victoria anymore. Why didn’t she kill me when she had the chance? I see nurses running back and forth. The police are coming. Next step is running away, I put down my gun and start walking out, hoping to escape. I walk out successfully; a smile slightly appears on my face. I am a few steps away from my car.

I get in to the car, take a deep breath, turn my face around and wait for Victoria to torture me till I die.

I should have done it differently.

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