Watching, Waiting, Wanting.

I stare out the 15th story window at the dark grey sky. Drops of rain quickly roll down the glass. The brisk morning air from the lack of proper ventilation sends shivers under my skin and into my bones. I check my watch: 7:25. Any second now.

I wait for the 406 city bus to arrive at its stop on the street below. Sure enough it pulls up moments later. I search the crowd getting off the bus for what I'm looking for. Then i see it; the familiar brown hair of the girl I've been expecting. Every day for the past month my mission has been to track her daily routine. To figure out where she will be at every moment. This was easy since she always does the same thing. 7:25 she gets off the bus and sits on the left side of the sidewalk bench to wait for the connecting bus to get to work. Since the first day I saw her I've been plotting and planning for the perfect moment.

I watch her sit down in her usual spot. She lifts her head to look at something and my heartbeat quickens. As she runs her fingers through her hair I start to feel the sweat rise on my skin. I don't even know her, but every time I see her there I feel a certain electricity pulse through me. The way I can see her eyes sparkle on sunny days and how the darkness of a rainy day adorns her sharp complexion.

On the rare occasions that I see her smile, my heart goes out of control in my chest.

There are many days when I have to fight the urge to run down the cold concrete steps and down the street to where she is sitting, just so I can learn her name or even just the sound of her voice. But every time I get that urge I have to stop myself. Because that is not my mission.

I wish I could have met her in some other life. Maybe become friends or possibly more.

That image will never become reality.

My heart is racing even faster than before. I want to watch her longer but I know I can't.

She stands and I know that it's time. I look at her beauty one more time and take in everything that I've grown to love about her over the past weeks.

I crack open the window so that I have enough space. She looks up again and this time her attention is turned toward me. Through the scope I look into her eyes and somewhere in me I imagine that she's looking back into mine. I see the bus pulling up. Her eyes don't leave my direction and for a second I don't believe I can do it. But I have to. I know she can see me but after all this time I have no choice. I take one more breath in and out before pulling the trigger and watching her body collapse to the ground. Dead.