The cold night bit at my cheeks. It stung my nose. I breathed out. Under the soft, barely-there glow of the moon, I could see my breath puffing out of my mouth, as the particles froze in the air. I stood hidden in an alley, the shadows of the night obscuring me from view. It was a cold night, a feeling of dark settling across the town. I listened as I heard soft footsteps approach. I lifted my semi-auto handgun once again, aiming it across the street. I aimed it - straight for the figure's head. He was hunched over, trying to protect himself from the cold. A gust of wind blew; a storm was coming.

It was him. Black jacket, red Nike's, blue cap. Slight limp in his step. I followed him with the point of my gun. My finger rested on the trigger. Just one slight pull, one centimeter. It felt odd, the life of a human being in my hands. The feeling of knowing that I was going to end it. Tonight.

Right.

Now.

My finger pulled back - just a centimeter. The blast echoed around the empty street. No one was here; hell, no one was near.

Not another soul was within a mile range. No one saw as the dark figure dropped silently to the ground. No one saw the blood pool around his bulky figure.

Other than me, of course. But I don't count.

I took long strides, towards the dying, if not dead, man. Not caring if he was alive or not, I reached into his coat, pulling out a small, soft, velvet jewelry box from his upper left pocket. I opened it.

Just as he said. It was there. I pocketed it.

I was tired tonight. Was not anywhere near in the mood to clean up this mess. I took my gun out, and started wiping it clean of fingerprints using my sleeve. I shoved it into the dead man's hand, securing his fingers around it. I shot it off once, into the sky, so that gunpowder would be on his hands - making it look like he pulled the trigger. I tugged him up - not without effort, mind you - and let him fall again, so he was in a natural position. I put his hand, with the gun, near his head.

He wasn't important; he had next to no family, a minimum-wage job, and lived in a different motel or hotel every other week. Forensic biologists could easily figure out it wasn't a suicide. But why would they? They wouldn't try finding a killer; not if the death was suspected to be a suicide. There's no killer to find if the killer was yourself.

I sighed. Other people don't do this. Normal people don't do this.

Good thing I'm not normal, I thought, as I walked away. Government officials could deal with this tomorrow. Me? I'd be gone by then.

Long gone.

"Hi, can I get a large chocolate chip frappe?" I forced a smile at the McDonald's worker. Half an hour after I had left theā€¦ ah, scene of the crime, I was at an airport. A busy airport. A busy airport with loud people. Loud people whom are giving me a headache. My head pounded, and I faintly wondered if I still had any aspirin left in my bag. I hoped so; it was going to be a long day. Well, night. Well, technically, day. It's already morning.

"Is that all?" The worker - Brittney, said the name tag - asked.

"Yeah." I dug my hand into my black jean pocket. Black jeans, black tank, black leather jacket. Damn. I realized - I must look like some badass.

You are one, idiot. Well, sort of, the little angel sitting on my left shoulder said, rolling her eyes.

I pulled out exact change, and gave it to the cashier. With a perfectly manicured hand, she took it from me, counted it, then gave me a receipt.

"Have a nice flight!"

"Yeah. Thanks," I said, forcing another smile. I stepped aside to wait for my order. As I drowned out the noise, which, strangely, was still loud at 12:23A - freakin - M, I thought of everyone back home. I volunteered for this assignment, since it only required one person. It was fast, easy. I left home a day and a half ago, and I'm already on my way home. Home to Vikki, Zach, and Nick. Back to the house we all shared, somewhere in Los Angeles. It was a nice place, picked out by Zach. It had three floors, not including the basement. Really, it was awesome - one of those places where countless happy, carefree memories were made.

"One large chocolate chip frappe?" a guy announced, eyes sweeping the crowd while holding my cup of caffeine and sugar in his hands. It was heavily topped with whipped cream, caramel, and chocolate.

"Here," I said offhandedly, reaching for my drink. I showed him the receipt, and took it. "Thanks!" I cooed, poking a straw through the thick cream.

"Parents sent you off on your own?" he asked casually.

Shit. I forced a carefree laugh. "No, I'm older than I look." Lie. I quickly fished out my fake passport. It was pretty expensive to buy. "See? Twenty as of last month - October." I flashed a smile, showing teeth. Inwardly, I sighed. We - Vikki, Nick, Zach, and I, all knew the techniques of lying, faking innocence, and, last but not least - seduction.

Leaning in, I placed my hands on the counter. Using my arms to emphasize, my, ah, chest area [which was peeking out from my tank], I said in a low voice, "Why? Why d'you wanna know?" I stared from under my lashes. Inside, I was cracking up. I loved how every guy fell for the act. Just like everyone else, this idiot in front of me was no different.

"N-no r-reason," he stuttered, eyes dropping a bit too low for my liking. I stopped laughing inside. "You j-just look.. sixteen."

Just say it jackass. You thought I looked easy. Fucking asshole.

"Hm. Pity I'm not." I stood upright again, winked, snatched up my drink, and walked off - stuffing my passport away, and eagerly sucking in the mixture of coffee, ice, and chocolate. What upset me, though, was that he was almost dead right - just a week off. I just turned seventeen, as of last week.


AN: Hi guys, so I've had this for a while [i wrote it for NaNoWriMo, and decided to publish it here] and i figured, why not let the public see it? I hope you like it, I will try to update everyday if I can, maybe every other day. Possibly once a week. Hit that review button - it would mean the WORLD to me! Even more than cookies, and I love cookies! I'm just an aspiring young writer desperate for your opinion (compliment, criticism, I love it all) like a man in the Sahara for water. REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! Virtual cookies to those who do :)