Notes

I could hear footsteps outside the door. Everything in my brain froze, and my heart started to race, looking for places to hide. I scanned the room for a place to hide; Anything so he wouldn't find me. I found a corner where the light didn't hit and crouched down with my knife in hand. The slow creak of the hinges grew higher in pitch until the doorknob hit the padding on the wall. His footsteps were very pronounced, even on the carpeted floor. His weight slightly shook the beneath him, making the chains hanging from the ceiling sway back and forth. Fear had kicked in, and my mind was racing from adrenaline. His breath was slow and evenly paced; but as loud as the A/C unit that cooled the room from the summers heat outside. His movement seemed to shift, and I couldn't hear his footsteps anymore. He clearly knew I was in the room, and planned to make my final moments on earth filled with fear. The fear in my head had subsided, and now all that remained was terror and regret. My mind started to wander, and the sounds of the outside world started to fade. i felt my body shift from position, as if being thrown across the room. I didn't know anymore. My head was screaming run, but my body wasn't there to hear it. I laid on the floor, as he slowly drove my knife down my shoulder blade. I stared at his face, and observed something. His mouth was moving, and I knew the sound that he was making was a sort of scream. But I just couldn't hear it. Instead all that I could really make out was the glint of a tear slowly running down his face along the crevices of his wrinkles. He was old. Maybe in his late 50's. His face didn't say "cruel" or "murderer". It said, "father" and "panicked". I extended my left arm, and tapped him on the shoulder. He sputtered, spitting in my face. But he slowly met his eyes with mine and stopped. His tears became even more pronounced as he came back into the light. I sat up and he followed suit. I winced at the pain of the knife embedded in my shoulder, but didn't care. Once we were both up, I smiled and put my arm on his shoulder. His uneasiness subsided and soon he began mimicking my smile. The blood splattered on my face, as the back of his nape was sliced in two by my assistant. The deed was done, and the unwanted was no more. His days of trying to unravel the "truth", as he put it, were over. And soon, his family would follow in his footsteps.