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* Here is the snap of her, it should be done by tomorrow.
** No.
* What?
** I won’t do it.
* Why?
** I knew her.
* Ahh old flame? Ex-girlfriend eh? (Dirty giggling)
** Nah! She is a schoolmate, yeah I used to like her.
* And?
** I asked her out once.
* And she rejected you. Didn’t she? (Dirty giggling again)
** She did.
* One more reason to get rid of her.
** What if I refuse.
* Then somebody else will do the job and get the money. Her husband is paying quite a good amount. Listen, you are a contract killer. Don’t grow a conscience and stay poor. Take the job and get paid.
** (Complete silence)
* See I personally prefer knives. Because guns make too much of noise. It should be easy. She returns home every day around 7:30 PM. The road in front of her house is pretty deserted. Just wait for her there and finish her off, stab her in the neck.
** Okay then.
* Make it look like a robbery or snatching gone wrong. Take away her purse.
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He was standing in that lane, which leads to her home. Few street lamps were working. The whole street was playing with lights and shadows here and there. He was standing under a tree.
It’s almost 10 years, still it feels as if it’s yesterday. She was always this cheerful, popular and center of attraction kind, always surrounded by people, guys and girls. And he was a shy, quiet type, the ones which are always invisible to them. They were in the same class from 11th standard, but he could never gathered enough courage to speak to her.
Except the annual fest for the 12th class. He thought it’s now or never. So he did what he thought is impossible, unthinkable. She was busy having the dessert in the buffet when he creeped behind her.
“Hi, I really do like you…!” He spoke in one breath.
“Amm, and you’re name is?” was her reply.
That was the first and last conversation between them.
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He could see her coming towards him. She was wearing a green designing saree, the bag full of groceries were in her left hand, she was holding her saree above her ankle with her right hand, dodging and avoiding the pot holes in the road filled with water.
She did not change much, since the day he saw her last time. He slowly stepped out, the street light was having this sleepy yellowish brightness, the whole lane was looking pale and sad.
He put his hand in his right pocket and felt the six inches folded steel, he slowly pulled it out. As he jerked his wrist, the sharp edge flung open, she was only 3 or 4 steps away from him. It should be fairly easy. Stab her right in the middle of her neck and pull the knife back, the respiration artillery should be cut and she should die in few seconds. A less painful death.
He turned towards her, and then froze as he heard the same familiar cheerful tone.
“Is that you? Roll no 37!!!”
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