𝙲𝚕𝚊𝚠𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙵𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜

𝟒．𝐢 𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟

your word and my word and your word is,
tomorrow, today, and yesterday,
but it's a necessary evil,
and you will find your way there

YARA ❦

Ears occupied with: none
Current mood: normal
20/8/2023

I stare at the man, my body still tense just in case. His Arabic is probably the most acceptable among everyone else I've met so far in Erbil, yet I'm irritated at how he simply pleads for me not to pull the trigger.

I hum as I still aim at him, deciding to get straight to the point. "Listen. I'm close to snapping and I'm already not in the mood, so you better listen closely to what I want from you." I speak quietly, lightly squeezing his throat. He yelps.

"Follow me."

I slowly get up, but before he stands up I press harshly on his feet, and is I wasn't still holding his throat he would've screamed in pain. If he was barely able to walk, he wouldn't be able to run.

My eyes are still glued to his slightly taller figure, I didn't want to miss a single heartbeat of his. He doesn't even look at me, he just stays standing, trembling. The sight appeased me, so I soften my grip on his throat. Thank God he isn't that tall, otherwise I would've struggled.

TIMESKIP ༄

The man, also known as Ilyas, holds a woman down, grunting. I merely watch as she tries to resist, her weaker body moving uncontrollably as her screams were muffled by the cloth I previously tied around her mouth. I wasn't happy, because I had to cut a piece of my shirt so I can wrap it around her mouth.

Ilyas manages to hold her wrists behind her back, using his legs to restrict her movements. His free hand travels to the woman's purse, and he throws it at me. However, I don't catch it, I let it fall to the ground instead. He then glances at me, as if questioning what to do next. I shrug.

"I've already told you, I'm not repeating myself." I say, unfazed by the situation. In fact, I found it kind of relaxing to my thoughts that were formerly so intense.

Ilyas then presses my gun against the woman's temple. She goes still for one second before she goes wild. She kicks and moves too fast it's animalistic. I stand in front of the two, watching curiously. Tears strain down the woman's face, as her noises and words were muffled. Ilyas himself seems shaken up, and I'm disgusted.

"Come on, just shoot her already." I demand, annoyed. His hand shook, and he looked at me again, as if asking for confirmation.

"You do realize that if you don't shoot her, I'll have to shoot you both, right?" I ask sharply, taking a step forward. "Although that'd be a waste of bullets, I won't waste a second on doing that." I pause, turning to look at Ilyas.

"Wouldn't taking someone's soul be enough to calm down that burning fear of society? If they are gonna attack you, attack them first, no? You hate being in public, which is why you go outside in empty places at the middle of the damn night." I speak, my tone being as gentle as possible.

Ilyas' eyes swell, as he shuts his eyes, and presses the gun further against the woman's temple. But before he does it, I stop him. "Hold it."

He pauses, surprised. The woman then looks at me, her eyes red from crying. I approach her, and tilt my head. "Anything to confess to?"