“Exactly! It would be best if he finds out from me. Maybe then, he could forgive me.” He replied.
I rolled my eyes and started bombarding him with questions. “Forgive you? Are you kidding me? What about me, huh? What do you think will happen to me? Haven’t you thought of that?”
“I don’t care about you. He’s my best friend and I can’t go like this any longer!” He bellowed with a pound on the desk beside him, the only furniture in the room aside from the bed and the lamp on the desk. “I have to end it before things go out of hand.”
“It’s already out of hand!” I shouted. “I’m pregnant with your child! You should’ve thought of that before you started this whole mess!”
“Oh God! Oh no!” He chanted again and again. His knees trembled as he leaned on the table beside him. It was the only thing that kept him standing. He looked like he wanted to curl into a ball.
“Snap out of it!” I ordered, my hands waving in the air.
“I don’t care! My conscience’s eating me alive!” He said, his voice shaking.
“Oh puh-lease. You can live through it. If he finds out, he’ll file a divorce and throw me out the streets. I’m going to starve and die out there. You’re going to kill your own child. Try living through that.” Despite everything that’s happening, I must say, I still looked poised.
“I can’t! I can’t! I can’t!” Here he goes again with the chanting.
“Damn right, you can’t.” I said and placed my hand on his shoulder, my nerves starting to relax.
“No!” He shoved me and my buttocks experienced a painful impact against the floor. He looked down, his blue eyes that seemed like they were in agony pierced through me and he said, “I have to tell him!”
He started walking away but I can’t let that happen. I stood up and regained my balance. I reached for a small revolver in my purse. I can’t let him get away with this. I pointed it towards his back and with all my strength and emotions, I squeezed the trigger.
A loud bang echoed in the dark empty apartment where we used to meet late at night. It was followed by a long high-pitched deafening note that sounded like a feedback from a microphone. Suddenly, I watched him literally drop dead to the ground, gasping for breath, and a pool of blood starting to form underneath him.
A cold chill ran through my spine, I unconsciously loosened my grip on the gun and it clanged as it hit the floor. My first instinct was to run and I did but it wasn’t long until they caught up to me and placed me in a foul-stinking cellar sealed by bars.
Looking back, I don’t regret my decision because if I chose not to kill him, then there wouldn’t be much difference, I would still be punished.