Murder :

My alarm rings. I turn my head, it's 6am. I turn off my alarm clock, get up from my bed and go to have my breakfast, it would be silly to have hypoglycemia at a time like this. It's Saturday and like every week, I have until 11 a.m. to operate because my parents, exhausted from the week, take time to reinvigorate themselves. Luckily my sisters no longer live at home, that saves me a lot of problems. My breakfast took, I dress as agreed the day before.

No time to take a shower, I rush to take the 6:45 am bus which will take me directly to the foot of the hospital. I wait inside, I have to travel for 30 minutes, I have planned everything by taking my helmet. Listening to my usual playlist, I close my eyes to refresh my mind, reorganize my thoughts and soothe my growing stress. The mechanical voice announces the stop. I open my eyes. It's mine.

Got out of the bus, I look around to find my bearings. The hospital is on my left. It's a set of huge buildings, each for a different block (radiology, emergency or operation), I go to the one that interests me, the emergency block where my former stalker is detained there. With a quick step I cross the parking lot, I arrive very quickly in front of the automatic door.

I come in, I see a large number of people there, some are patients who are doing their rounds in the hospital, an infusion in their arm, while others are just family. After many rounds, I remembered the path of the boy's father who was going back and forth to stretch his legs. It is 8 am when finally I have a hope that he leaves the hospital. He receives a phone call, his face hardens and he rushes quickly towards the parking lot. As a safety measure, I follow him and I see him get into his mid-range car.

It starts and goes with a bang, I thank God. I come back to the hospital, go to his room. No one around, I take the opportunity to stick my ear to the door to pick up any noises, unfortunately someone else might be there.

It is silence.

I take a deep breath. Put my hand on the handle. Switches on, retracts and closes the door in 1 record time.

I stand in front of him. I see his pathetic state, contradicting when he felt powerful during my "torture" sessions. Yes my boy, the roles have been switched. Today I'm up and you're on the ground. Never even in my wildest dreams had I imagined such a scenario.

I savor, I revel in this new feeling. Despite my euphoria I must not make mistakes and ruin it all just because I'm hanging out.

I take my sharp knife out of my backpack, slowly positioning it on his carotid artery. He suddenly opens his eyes. By what miracle, I don't know, but my reflexes take over and the knife slices through his sensitive spot. I look at him, he looks at me. In this exchange, he understands who I am, he understands that he is doomed.

1 minute later, he stops breathing. Luckily I thought of unplugging the machines so that his heart stopping didn't alert the nurses.

I take a deep breath. This taste of freedom is a relief, a blessing.

Still savoring, I slightly hear familiar cries. I now remember who they belong to.

I look down and it's black.