Split the Night Apart

I have wanted to kill him for weeks.

And now, at last, the time has come.

The gun is cold and heavy in my hand; the air ripples with the heat radiating off my skin.

Snowflakes land on my eyelashes, and melt, and freeze. I blink and they melt again.

The light from the crescent moon flashes across patches of snow; it turns the strips of ice on the road into mirrors. I look up and the moon seems to be smiling at me. I know then that I now have its blessing.

I smile back.

Sweat runs down the back of my neck and turns cold. I have been drinking quite a lot tonight; I just hope that my aim will not suffer for it. But it has to be tonight. Has to.

Ahead, I hear their footsteps and laughter and voices. My fingers squeeze the grip in anticipation until they turn white. The couple doesn’t look behind them and the noise of boots crunching on the ice echoes, bouncing off the surrounding houses. I try to be careful, but then I stumble, and every footstep that follows seems to split the night apart.

She glances over her shoulder then, and I have to duck behind a parked car. My temples are pounding in time to the rhythm in my ribs and I know I’ve run out of chances. They will bolt soon. I have to do it. Now.

I make myself move and I lean out into the street again – enough to aim; I put my sights on my target, and my finger slides onto the trigger. I fire once. And miss.

I hear her muffled yell and watch her shove him towards the side of the road. By some miracle, he actually turns to look around to look. He leaves himself wide open, and adrenaline floods my senses – I could not ask for a better shot. I fire again. When he jolts and falls to the ground, I duck behind the car once more and catch my breath. The red blossoming through his shirt is burned into my vision. And she won’t stop screaming.

In the sudden silence, I listen to his watery gasps and her sobbing and I feel an immense relief descend upon me. But I decide to wait a little longer; I will stand up and go take back what was rightfully mine once I am sure he is dead.

I look up – the moon is still smiling. And so am I.