Right now, the Devil is beating is wife. By that, I mean it's raining while the sun is out. The rain slightly prickles my head as I walk down the street. No one is outside, just a stranger strolling along. The house is two blocks away. It feels like I'm walking down the same street over and over, due to the lack of scenery.
I softly hum "Loser" by Beck. My legs pace in a certain pattern, left foot then right foot. I move my shoulders side to side, tossing the bag across my back. I can feel it poking me, about ready to shoot.The strap twists as it rolls up my shoulder, digging in slowly. Five more houses, I say to myself as I approach the house.
I break into a small rush. I pass one house, bag slamming against my back. The soft metal is nearly crippling me. Once I reach the house, I toss it over my shoulder and take a deep breath. I take a look at the house. It is painted in a horrible shade of yellow, with no evidence of yard care at all. The house is two stories, with dead plants right by the windows and door.
I get on my knees and unzip the bag. I pull out a black Sniper Rifle. I prop the butt on my shoulder and lift the gun up. I stare into the scope, trying to find human life within the shades. There is sight of a little kid, but taking a kid's life is horrible. Then I see the dad, standing right in my way. I have my finger on the trigger, and I'm about to pull.
Plot twist, I'm my own mother.
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