New Year Lights

TW: murder

The ball, once again, rested at the top of the pole, illuminating the colors of false hope and broken promises to come. The blues reflecting on the buildings surrounding, light falling on glass rippling like the ocean waves in which you sail with no knowledge of what will come. The waves that cover the city’s soon to be new year, that can pull under all those who believe they are innocent. 

The blues shifted down the color spectrum, to the reds. My favorite color. The blood that would seep through lies and deceit like when a mother so casually tells their child, that the art project they completed was a Picasso. It’s disgusting yet so beautiful. I watched from atop, as the crowd filled with regret and shame, felt alive for the one time a year they were allowed. A list of goals they will not accomplish- but just for that moment they feel so… real. But it’s the most fake they would ever be. 

My sniper rested upon my cheek, the cold air blending with the cold butt stock and canceling out their bites, sending he warmth of happiness warmth down my body. I’ve done this too many times. Too many people around the country… yet I never had to do this on a day I would always keep to myself. The money was too good to turn down. 

I looked through my scope, much like my binoculars I normally use on New Year’s Eve.  Wishing I was down there like I am every year, enjoying the presence of bullshit people. I hate them. I hate how they pretend to be happy. I hate that they don’t give all they can to society. I hate the fact that each one of them, push onto their children false ideology that they can be whatever they want. My mother did that, and here I am, waiting for my target given by some rich beaurocrat for 20 million.

I was supposed to hit the last singer, Kristen Brea. The new girl of the music industry. Her songs filled with actual lyrics, and love for her life. The kind of girl that seems to never back down from a challenge, which today she should’ve. I don’t get much info on my targets, but I study them, and I learned very quickly that she was a good person. But then again, almost all my targets are. All my targets are just a name floating in the wind like snow of Christmas eve. Meaningless. Meaningless as the ball that reached the top-

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” the crowd screamed as they hugged and kissed each other. My scope set on a young couple, probably college. Obviously knowing nothing about love as the man’s hand gave a firm squeeze on her ass. I wished I shot him. No respect for women.

I shifted to the left of them a young kid getting his first new year’s kiss, right on the cheek by his mother. Sweet. Yet unreal.

I made my sights over to the stage. Kristen belted a note so beautiful, I could almost actually care. Her voice carried like the bullet meant for her end, loud, smooth and beautiful as the angels she would soon meet. Or so I thought. As my finger lingered on the trigger, I readied my breathing. Slow and paced, letting out the hot air and taking in the cold of January 1^st. Just as my finger was to pull back on the lever, A back up dance grabbed her explicitly, forcing her to shove him back. She continued her beautiful song, and he did it again. The disgust that filled my heart reminded me of my father the time he beat a man for touching my mother inappropriately at a BBQ one summer. A truly stand-up man, who was forced to prison for murdering a rapist. I wondered at that moment, how I became a hire for innocent’s instead of doing something productive like my lovely dad.

I watched for a few more moments, as the backup dance caressed another woman on stage. My heart pounded, and for the first time I broke a sweat in the dead of winter. I pulled the trigger, the bullet hitting him in a vital artery on his throat, sending him to the floor. The crowd still loud, covering the sound of my shot. The ones on stage began top freak out, rushing in directions-as security helped them off stage as quick as possible. My target was on the move, killing any chance of my mission completion any time soon.

I packed my rifle, not even formulating the execution plan. I was just happy that I sent another abuser, privileged ass man back to where he belongs. In hell.

I quickly left the roof and reached the street where police were aiding people in evacuation of the area. I turned the corner to see a security guard wearing his piss yellow jacket spoking a joint. Without thinking, I grabbed him by his head and slammed him into the wall, and casually walked with him into an alleyway. I stripped his jacket and hat and slipped it over my black attire, now blending in perfectly with the sad pathetic men and woman of the city.

I pushed passed the flood of people, much like a school of bumbling fish, unknowing on where to go, panicking because the shark has entered their waters. Yet they didn’t know that shark was me.

I made my way to the row of trailers set up for the evening’s talent.

“You can’t come passed here.” A private security guard pushed me back.

“I’m security.” I spoke to the soul drifting in his eyes. “I was told to get her statement.”

The guard stared me down as if trying to intimidate. I only could think of the most vicious way I could take him and his ego down. Another privileged “tough guy” that thought he could win because of his social status.

He moved to the side and waved me into the trailer where Kristen sat crying her brown eyes out. Tears raining, reminding me of my mother that night she saw my father be whisked away in cuffs.

“Miss- “I began, she immediately grasped me in a hug. I wasn’t sure if I should return the hug or snap her neck. Instead, I stood still, like you would when confronted by a bear. She let go after moments, that felt like minutes to me.

“I’m sorry… “she wiped her eyes. “I-I just needed that.”

“Did you… know the man.” The only words I could find.

“No… I mean yea. Yea I knew him, but not well. He’s a recent hire just for this gig. He’s understudying for one of my crew.” She sat down, blowing her nose into a tissue. “OI take it you want a full statement, but I don’t know- “

“No.” I leaned onto the counter. “Tell me about him? From what you know.”

“He’s a dick. Or was… but I don’t know why someone would shoot him.” Sher eyes so innocent. So full of life and question.

“Did he ever touch you, inappropriately?” I rubbed my pocket slowly, my knife, felt between my fingers, asked me a question. Is it right?

“He did… how did you know?” She wearily looked to me. My soulless eyes telling nothing.

“Because I watched him… because I am the one who shot him. Because I was hired to kill you.” My face cold, but warm as the summer in her presence.  She froze. “But I don’t know if I should. Because you don’t deserve it. Do you?”

“…can you be the judge of that?” her voice unshaken. Fearless.

“Why aren’t you screaming right now.” 

“Because if I did, you’d kill me anyway, wouldn’t you?” She stood up and walked to me. “I know who hired you… it was my manager. And I don’t want to die… but life is given and taken. Who am I to fight destiny?”

“You think me murdering you is destiny?” I said as her hands grasped my wrists in an embrace I’ve never felt. Gentle.

“I have faith in my lord sir. And I have faith that you will do what you’re going to do. Whatever you choose.”

“Why are you not scared of me? You’re more worried I killed the man who molested you?

She smiled as she walked to the door, I grasped my knife quickly.

“Do me a favor… look out this window.” She drew the blinds. “You see that?” She pointed at the New Year’s Ball, sitting at the bottom of 2021.

“Yea. I see it every year. It’s just another symbol of the pathetic promises people make to themselves every year.”

“When I was 15, I promised myself on my New Year’s resolution list… that I would practice my lyrics and singing every day until I get paid for it… and then some.” She smiled deep into my bleak eyes. “Have you ever made a resolution?”

I looked closely into the colors. The blues, illuminated the fear filled sky, reflecting off the buildings like ocean waves rippling in the night. The blues turned down the color spectrum to reds. The reds to the purples, the purples to the blues yet again. The blues like the sky of when I was a child. The reds like the blood that pumps through my heart giving me every breath. A cycle that went on and on.

“isn’t it… wonderful?” Kristen brushed my face. “What would your resolution be?

“To stop doing what I do… to people like you.” I looked into her soul yet again. Her smile assured me that it was possible. She told me, with no words what it means to have dreams become reality. And as my knife slid into her stomach, and dropped her body the floor, I looked deep into that new year’s ball at the bottom of 2021 for the thousandth time. And knew, tomorrow was to be more beautiful than I could ever imagine.