We didn’t know what to do with the body. My two friends and I stared at the ruby red blood running down the side of the darkened street. The blood shined as the light of the full moon reflected off of it. We turned our heads toward the battered face of a middle-aged man. Blood ran from the corner of his mouth and leaked from the little cuts on his arms, and legs. His once white T-shirt was now stained with blood and was slightly ripped.

We grinned. Our job was finished. Now all we had to do was stash the body. Someone was bound to see the body in the dark alleyway the next day, in this small, little town in the middle of Kansas, if we left it there. We couldn’t take it with us. Our boss wouldn’t have it.

We stood there stumped as we stared at the body. A small breeze floated by as we thought. “Maybe we could cut the body into little pieces and dump it in the nearest lake,” I suggested. “That way no one would find it.” Everyone nodded in agreement.

Taking a case from my bag, I gave the knives in the small case to everyone. Blood splattered all over our faces and clothes as we chopped the body into pieces with butcher knives we had brought with us in cases like this. We gathered the miniature pieces of the body together to put in a black trash bag.

Taking the bag and leaving the bloodstains, we got into a red SUV, throwing the bag into the trunk, and we drove toward the lake five miles away from the town. We sat silently all the way there. When we got there, we used the old wooden boat sitting on the shore of the lake.

The three of us rowed out into the middle of the lake and dumped the bag along with the knives, into the lake. We tried looking into the lake but all we could see was the reflection of the moon.

We rowed back to shore and got back into the car. We had to drive through town to get to the mafia headquarters. When we got to the edge of town, I heard the sirens, and saw the bright lights of the police cars not too far away.

I made a sharp U turn and kept driving on, but after a fifteen minute drive, I saw it again, the lights. We automatically knew that we were surrounded. We gave up; there was nowhere to go anymore. I stopped the car and we all got out. A few minutes later, the police arrived.

We were arrested for murder, and a few hours later, we found out that someone had seen us murder the man. We were put to trial the next day and were pleaded guilty. We were put to death two weeks later. During my walk to the death row, I couldn’t help snickering at what I had done. He was the man that abused and raped me when I was younger, making me go into the mafia in hopes of killing this man. He was the man I was assigned to kill for killing the wife of my boss. Now that I think about it all I could think of is, “At least I killed the man, the man I used to call my father.”