MAYA, a girl who goes through life with an unwavering smile-around other people that is. While juggling four jobs to support her father and a side hobby of modelling, Maya is rarely at home-to her content. Even through the mental and physical turmoi...
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I FEEL LIKE a shooting star. Like I'm just passing by, eventually bound to blow up. From a distance, there pretty to look at; they shine brightly, sparkling against the dark night sky, when in reality, what people don't see is that it's just one big ball of dust, rocks and all the other unwanted debris from space.
We watch shooting stars fly by, there nice in the moment, but gone far to early and forgotten about soon after.
I'm awfully scared that'll be me. Gone and forgotten about.
But there's nothing I can do about it now. Not while I'm sitting on the ledge of a building watching them fly by while my soon to be killer stands in the shadows, watching me.
All I can go is make an effort to remember each star that passes by in the short time I have left; just like I hope someone will do for me.
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Twelve hours earlier...
My phone continues to ring like it has off and on for the past ten minutes, annoying me too no extent. I cant even have one day off.
I finally pick up, resisting the urge to throw the stupidly loud devise across my room. "What?" I growl, voice still raspy with sleep.
I recognize the poorly distorted voice in a second, my exhausting not slowing me down. "It's been two weeks." The voice states, "why is the girl still alive?"
I roll my eyes, "two weeks is a very short time span to execute a discreet and successful hit." She could've been dead within two days. I had her. Alone. All I would've had to do was shoot. But with that look in her eye, the one that was so sad... I almost felt bad for her.
Almost. But I didn't. It was pathetic.
I don't tell my client any of this.
"I want her dead by the end of the month."
I chuckle, "you're paying my minimum fee, she'll die when I get the chance to kill her."
