Hitmans life

Cory Lewis

"Ow," I groaned, sitting up.
My back ached from sleeping on the couch all night. It was Saturday morning so I got to sleep in. I poured some milk into my cereal and walked into the dining room. Anubis sat at the far end of the table, hunched over. His head was limp, his dark hair mangled.
"What happened now," I sighed.
No reply. He didn't move.
I set my breakfast on the table and ran over to him. I lifted his head. He was unconscious. His breath smelled like alcohol. Tears stained his face.
"Seriously Anubis?! Drunk?!" I yelled, prying the bottle of vodka from his hand.
He stirred.
"I can't do it," He said with a slur.
"What can't you do?" I asked.
"I could never hurt you," He was crying now.
"You're scaring me."
He stood up and gently grabbed my hand.
"Mi vida," He whispered. "I love you."
His grip was tightening.
"I love you too," I laughed nervously.
I tried to pull my hand away but he didn't let me.
"You're hurting me!" I yelled.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun.
"Anubis, listen to me-" I started.
"Mi vida," He interrupted, pulling me closer. "You know I love you. You won't feel it, I'll make it fast."
He raised the gun, hand shaking.
"Put the gun down!" I yelled.
"I can't! Lav needs this! I promised I wouldn't let her die!"
He brought the gun to my head. I couldn't breathe. My heart was pounding. I tried to run, but I couldn't move. I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the blow.
This is it, I thought. This is when I die. In the arms of who I thought was the love of my life. How will people remember me? Will they even remember me at all?
The cold embrace of the gun barrel left and I opened my eyes. Anubis had dropped the gun and fell to the ground, bawling. I took the gun and pointed it at him.
"I'm going to walk out the front door and you're not going to follow me," I said sternly. "If you do, I will shoot."
I walked backwards towards the door, the gun still pointed at him. Once I was outside, I ran.