Jonathon was a normal man, with a normal life, and a normal routine. Everything he did was normal, routinised, basic even. Hell- this son of a bitch was so basic: he'd most likely go un-noticed if you ever saw him in person...except not anymore. Now, you may be thinking that he changed his ways and actually became an interesting person for once in his mediocre life— but, unfortunately, thats not what i mean. What i mean is that you wont ever see him in person anymore. Because his sad, mediocre, dumbass life was ended about three and a half minutes ago. Not by my hand of course; that would be simply stupid. I mean writing this all down is dumb enough but im not that dumb for fucks sake. My name is Owen. Just Owen. And, by lawful term, im a murderer. Technically im just the man that put out a hit on poor old Jonathan, and the only blood on my hands are the droplets to soak through the complex layers of a hired gun.
See, hitmen are complex not because of how they cover things up, how they hunt their marks and ale them out in the quickest, quietest and sometimes even painless ways; but in how they see the world and who they are to their vary of clients and their prices. To some, they are a godsend of a last resort to get back at someone to ruin their entire lives, scraping at the bottom of their life savings and throwing cash together out of years of work and spite against this one person soon to be rid of the world once they put together enough cash and coin to put a bullet through their skull. And yet, to the rich and hateful with their everlasting power and ever growing bank accounts.... To them hitmen are dogs doing one hit on someone who just happened to be in opposing aspects to their rich dick selves, killing on the pay of their pocket money, what they get within moments at the same amount as another mans whole life's worth of working away. And yet what is interesting to me is that to the hitman himself; either way they get payed and either way they're dealing with a population issue that they dont care about. A hitman has to be neutral, they go where the money goes and go through people and their graves to get it. Sick right? But i cant help but agree with them somewhat. It's a sick, sick world we live in... where the rich can be rid of a man who irritates them with a bullet, paying for it with what they earn in a day while sitting around, ruining lives, while on the other deside is the normal man who has to give up his life to finally get revenge on one person who -actually deserves- that death. A world where everything matters on status and the system is wired to make sure you never reach the top unless you get a little blood on your hands. But im rambling, so I'll tell you more about this sad little man named Jonathan, who's life was ended barely five minutes ago. Though wether or not you'd put me at guilt for that is up to you, i dont care.
YOU ARE READING
Owen's diary
Gizem / GerilimA diary account of the murder of a man named Jonathan, written by Owen, a simple man who simply had to protect the world from the mediocre, basic bitch, Jon. A story that follows the psychology of a man who was so paranoid of the world, he thought...