Blindsided

Lay Down Your Life

ᴤᴤᴤᴤᴤ

Chorong had scaled the mountain for a day and a half. Advising her she could see everything that went on in the house through the generous windows. There was a cleaner Chorong had pretentiously run into as she stepped out of the house to grocery shop. According to her, no one else lived in the home. Mr. Ha was very orderly and did not welcome strangers into his home. She had signed a confidential paper and taken a drug test before being hired.

Following Chorong's footsteps, Namjoo climbed up the rocky mountain slipping on moss and tripping over the uneven steps. Perching on a boulder house watching.

As if per custom, Mr. Ha also lived in a two-story building. From where she sat, she could easily spy on Mr. Ha through a window. One look and she got a perfect direct view of the foot of his bed. Angling her head to the left and she could see a wall-to-wall walk-in closet.

Dropping off into the backyard was a wooden patio decked with a table and several matching chairs. Cigarette butts were discarded into a smoking tray from this morning's smoke she assumed. The silver trashcan was overfilled with junk and cans of beer. Namjoo shook her head at his irresponsibility to recycle.

Two side windows let her in on the first floor to a view of the marbled kitchen and slated gray cupboards. The design too sophisticated for a man that once used to garden his own food. To further view anything else she'd have to leave her spot on the mountain, but that everything else wasn't important to her.

She would surprise him at bed time when his guard was down. Stretching an arm forward and the other a little lower, she pretended to wield her rifle. Clenching an eye shut as she stared through an imaginary scope into the bedroom.

"Pow," she sounded clocking her arms up in effect. Grinning as she straightened.

Tomorrow night, she would get her revenge.

ᴤᴤᴤᴤᴤ

Namjoo woke early. Saw Junmyeon and Chorong off before hurrying back inside. Chilling in front of the television waiting the hours out. Previously, she had hidden the rifle in the dead of the night. Burying it among the flush of greens in the mountain. Planning to retrieve it on D-day.

As the sun dipped lower into the sky, Namjoo left a note for her friends. Grabbed a change of clothes; pulling on her darkest pair of jeans, a darker t-shirt, and draped a sweater over her arm. After stuffing the glass plaque into her backpack, she left. Taking a cab and instructing the driver to let her off two blocks away from Mr. Ha's house.

Carefully completing the climb up the mountain and dug around for the rifle. Situating it in her arms for the first time. The brutal machine was heavier than she expected, but she would deal. She could adapt to it.

While waiting, Namjoo practiced dropping the rifle, raising it up, loading and pulling the metal receiver around the bolt. Aware she could hurt herself in the process, but what did it matter.

Maybe she should have gone with a handgun. It might have made plans easier, but from a long distance she wasn't sure she could aim accurately. Namjoo had never touched a gun before. Also knew this was stupid, but regardless, she was determined to do it this way. What did people fear the most if not a gun to the head?

For the remaining time, Namjoo camped out in the mountain. Going through the motion of her scheme. Watching the sun wane and nightfall rise. Thinking of the last night when she saw her father alive. When her mother hushed her back to bed and she made the mistake of stepping out to use the bathroom.

Closing her eyes, she inhaled the oncoming breeze. Clutching the rifle, she rose to her feet. This was it.

Lifting the rifle up she shut one eye, focused the other on the scope attached to it. Zooming in on Mr. Ha's bedroom. The curtain was closed, but it did not matter where the shot hit. Namjoo tested her finger against the trigger.