Fearing The Mafia

Part 19

Part 19

"Okay, are you ready?" Severin asked me, standing a few feet away on my right.

I nodded firmly. "Yes."

"Good, now whenever you are ready, you shoot," he told me.

Narrowing my eyes at the target, I counted to five before pulling the trigger. And just like for the past few days, the bullet went flying and hit the target, only not the target I wanted it to hit. The little red circle remained smooth, while its surrounding rings were ruined with numerous amounts of holes.

I stamped my foot in frustration and having failed once again in shooting the target. For the past eight days, I had tried and tried to shoot the damn crimson circle, but had only succeeded in blowing off the other rings, and it was starting to piss me off.

"Why don't you picture someone you hate with all your heart and then shoot," Severin suggested, casually crossing his arms over his chest.

"You couldn't have told me that before?!" I shrieked.

Severin chuckled. "No, I was not only testing your aim but your patience as well, that's why I did not tell you this before," he answered.

"And why now? Do you somehow sense that I am starting to run out of patience and have a terrible aim?" This man really knew how to rile me up.

"Yes and no," he replied.

I just gave him a confused look in response, urging him to elaborate.

"I mean, yes I can sense that you are running out of patience, and precious, you are in no way a bad aim, you are actually pretty good for a beginner," he told me with pride gleaming in his eyes.

A blush colored my cheeks at hearing the compliment. But with it came a new sense of determination. I was going to do this. I was going to show Severin I was an excellent aim. I was going to make him proud.

Wait what?!

No no, back up, I was not going to make him proud, I was going to make myself proud. He was the enemy, not a friend. I would never want him to be proud of me. Yes, I was going to make myself proud by shooting the target. Not Severin. I tried convincing myself, but I did not believe it, at least, not whole heartedly.

Brushing away thoughts of Severin from my mind, I focused my attention on the notorious target; this time I took Severin's advice and pictured the person I hated the most.

I faltered when it wasn't Severin's face that flashed before my eyes when I pictured the face of the person I hated the most; it was not even Severon's face—who was the reason I was learning how to shoot in the first place, oh no, it was the ugly face of my neighbor who had been on top of my hit list for a quite some time now.

Her name was Agatha and she was the one who taught me what it was like to truly hate someone. She tried her best to let Kelsey and I know how much she despised us, not to mention, she made our lives a living hell by always doing one thing or the other that would ruin our sleep. Always throwing parties with deafening music and shovelling snow in our driveway during winters.

And when the police came to inform us that our parents had passed away—when the hotel they were attending a charity event in caught fire—she actually said that our parents were now free of us. She did not show an ounce of sympathy upon our parents death, just continued to fire one insult after the other. It was at that time, that I truly wished death upon the other person. When Agatha would die I was going to dance on her grave, and I would enjoy doing it.

When Agatha's face flashed before my eyes, it was like my fingers had a mind of their own, pulling the trigger not once but four times. The bullets went flying, my eyes trying hard to track their movement.