Tim was a tall, fifteen year old boy with chocolate hair and dark eyes. His clothes were obsolete and his hair was tousled and wild as he walked down the deserted street. His worn out sneakers hit the pavement with a soft thud as the rhythm of his pacing continued at an even beat. He slowly reached his hand down to feel the cold metal lump in his swaying coat pocket. His fingers firmly grasped it and in the very next moment, Tim pulled out a gun and checked to make sure it was loaded and ready before he continued his journey. Shoving it back into the coat, his pace began to quicken as he strode towards an island of mound of dirt away from civilization. He walked up a rather small hill and reached a little cottage at the top which overlooked the large black ocean. The dark waves crashed against the sandy shore and gave the appearance of a peaceful home. There was a garden in front filled with many bright colored flowers even as the full moon shone on them. Next to the house stood two gravestones-one for each parent of the household. Tim knew what he had to do. He rammed into the large oak door and knocked it onto the ground easily with a loud thud. A beautiful, young girl about his age looked up as her blond curls fell in front of her sapphire eyes, which grew wider and wider with terror as she spotted him. She dropped her broom with a clunk and started to back away until she reached the wall. She was petrified and had nowhere to turn. A loud, high pitched screaming was heard across the hills, and then a loud gunshot went off. The scream had been cut short-not lowered, simply cut off. Tim felt an overflow of rapture as he gleamed at the large puddle of warm blood growing on the floor next to the cold body in front of him. He turned and walked out of the room, not noticing the little blue-haired, nine year old boy crouching behind the wall, weeping.

Tim jolted up in bed, beads of sweat aligning his face. The nightmare of his past had haunted him every night for the past three years incessantly. No other dream had ever dared to come to mind to chase it away. He no longer considered his heinous acts humane, for he had changed his ways. Back then he was an immoral and capricious little boy with nothing but hate to fill his every thought and blood stained hands. He felt small pleasure as he recalled his renunciation of killing.

Tim got up and changed into slacks and a baggy blue t-shirt. Splashing cold water on his face to wake himself up, Tim looked into the mirror, hoping that he would no longer see the murderous, cold-blooded look in his eyes. Luckily, he looked just like a poor beggar of an orphan, without any past to bother him. He ran out the door of the lonely, poor-looking house and onto the crowded street filled with other beggars and the low-lives of the town. Tim decided to take a little stroll towards the more tranquil and prettier side of town. He walked up towards the azure beach as a strong breeze came by. He sat on the rock for hours which seemed more like minutes. The sun was setting and that night was to be a full moon, reminding Tim of that the upcoming night would be the exact date of when he killed that girl three years before. After the sky became cold and black, he looked to his right and found a hill with a little, too-familiar cottage. The flowers were not as bright as they used to be, but they still showed a little sign of color and the glow of the moon was far more eerie than when Tim first saw it. His heart filled with dread as he noticed an extra gravestone next to the house. Tim chose to pay his respects after keeping away for a long period of time. In front of it, he noticed a dark blue-haired boy who looked about the age of twelve. Three graves stood side by side, each with a flower sitting on top of the mounds of dirt. The boy stood there, just shaking his shoulders and crying. Tim felt bad for the little guy so he walked over, even if the little house brought his nightmares closer and closer to him.

The boy turned his head to see who was recahing out a sympathetic hand, and in moments his face turned from grief to angry-REALLY angry. He pulled out a dagger from a small sheath hidden inside his sleeve and pointed it directly at Tim.

“You…”he said through clenched teeth, “you killed my sister!!!” The boy lunged at Tim with a fiery rage in his deep purple eyes. Tim easily dodged the attack by moving to the side a few inches at a quick rate. It's been so long since I've moved this fast, thought Tim, that I am surprised I can move at any quick rate of speed. The boy turned around and gave Tim a quick glare. The look stabbed Tim like lightning as the boy lunged once again. This time, he hit his target as Tim purposely threw himself onto the dagger. It landed right in the ex-assassin’s heart.

Now Tim felt that he deserved to die, and to feel like the victims of his horrible past. In a way he sacrificed himself, and in a way he was murdered by the vengeance of a young boy.

Tim’s crimson blood spilled all over the flowers as he fell on top of the young girl’s grave of whom he murdered. The young boy had some blood spurted on his right cheek as he looked in horror and happiness at what he had done. Tim simply looked up at the boy with a wide smile on his face and in a faint, hoarse whisper said, “Thank……you……” In the very next moment, Tim dropped his head to the blood covered dirt and with a peaceful look on his face, died.