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Short Story - Poe

Short Story - Poe

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Published by George Zhang

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Published by: George Zhang on Mar 12, 2012
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03/12/2012

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George Zhang American Humanities Guerra

May 5, 2011 Ms. Dowse

Ten years I had devoted to this day – ten years! For ten years I could not sleep well at night as memories of years past haunted me over and over. For ten years, I sat and watched, sat and watched, thinking, planning, devising, until at last, the opportunity had come and I was ready. Ten years of work had led to this moment. This was going to be no ordinary day for the people of England. Oh no! This was going to be no ordinary day at all! For today would mark the day the Prime Minister died. I heard the parade long before I saw it. The music was at first distant and hard to make out, but soon it filled the air. Not long after, from my perch on the roof of an apartment building, I saw the beginning of the parade in the distance. There was the person twirling the baton at the front, with the band immediately behind. I waited. The band was of no interest to me. I had only one goal for being there. While I watched the band march past below me on the street, I thought back to high school. Oh how I despised that time. I was the lowest of the low in the social chain in high school, ignored and even resented by everyone. But one person was worse than anyone else. Evan Guerra. The mere sound of that name is enough to send waves of anger coursing through me. He was a straight-A student with honors, and was one of the most popular kids in high school. Teachers and students alike loved him. Oh how I despise him! Everything he did was gold in the eyes of other people. Girls fought to be with him; boys fought to hang out with him. Nothing he did was ever wrong! Nothing! His perfection, which was adored by everyone, was despicable to me. I could not stand him!

Below me were floats with people in silly costumes riding ridiculously looking cars or trucks. cutting off his fingers. The first band was now nowhere in sight. but I knew that would not satisfy me. I knew his daily schedule like the back of my hand and could get his plans on any other activities within hours of his making them.Ever since then. But those were of no interest to me either. the more unlikely it seemed for me to . The pain he had caused me would not be satisfied by one punch. I thought back to the countless sleepless nights that had occurred before a plan really began forming. he got a position in government and has since been working his way up until he became the Prime Minister. Countless days I spent thinking of my revenge. after which he sent his kids up to do homework and he and his wife sat in the living room and watched TV. I looked down again. I watched his every action. Ever since high school. After graduating from one of the top law schools in England. he gets home at exactly 5:30 and spends the rest of the day with his wife and two kids. I dreamed of confronting him alone and punching him in the face. and saw that the parade had moved along quickly. On the weekends. torturing him. I had spent those nights dreaming of ways I would get back at Guerra. By the time I was ready. I had thought of drugging him to make the kidnapping easier. I had thought of kidnapping him. He would occasionally go into the city to meet with his fellow government officials and discuss the next bill to pass or action to take. They would go on walks in the park or play in their backyard every day before dinner. but the more I thought about it. Every day. toes. But that would not work either. He was much stronger than I. I had only one goal for being there. he would drive his kids to their various activities around town and spend the rest of the time with his wife at home. I kept waiting. anything. for I was just as much a patient man as I am a rational one.

waiting… Suddenly. who advised me on the exactly location to insert the poison for the maximum possible pain and suffering. waiting. I could not just ask him out for a drink. Evan Guerra. waving to the crowd. I knew Guerra would be within my grasp soon. wearing the perfectly ironed suit he always wore to work. there came a cheer from the crowd. Of course. something painful. I was no friend of his. so I consulted a cardiologist. I would not kill him instantly. I inserted the dart containing the poison into the gun I had bought off a member of some gang from Liverpool. That would be too nice for everything he had done to me. So I finally decided to simply kill him. waiting. but it needed to be something incurable as well. he never seemed to drink anyway. The poison would literally eat through him. I turned away and watched the rest of the parade go past while I waited for him to get within range. The Prime Minister. A bullet through the brain was too simple. according to him. I looked where everyone else was looking. There were the important people of England: celebrities. I had to make sure he did not die too early. . Not a single strand was out of place. government officials. veterans. I had friends in the chemical business. The method of death. I could not stand looking at him for another minute. At the moment. And besides. would cause every single cell that absorbed this wonderful liquid to shrivel up and die. I finally settled on a concoction that. He was smiling. I had thought about long and hard as well. Of course. world record holders. I hated nothing more than his suit… except maybe his perfectly coifed hair. Luckily. I lay down at the edge of the roof. and most importantly. I needed something slow. and there he was.be able to accomplish that. The amount of work I put into this would astound the average person. who introduced me to a great variety of potions and poisons. I looked down again. That irked me more than anything.

and my breath started to come more rapidly. that motion made me more nervous. waving to the crowd. I couldn’t think clearly. I steadied myself and lay down again. Ten more seconds. finally settling back in a slightly less organized position. Time was running out. Five seconds left until I had to make the shot. and I would pull the trigger. he was close enough to get a good shot in. obstructing my vision. sending chills up my spine. My heart beat faster. My hand started to shake. threatening to jump right out of my chest. a gust of wind blew. My previous calculations had told me that the best possible angle could be achieved through waiting about twenty more seconds. My heart began to beat faster. just as I had done for ten long years. My heart kept beating and beating.Soon. Four seconds. I tightened my grip on the gun. completely unaware of the horrors I was going through. The wind picked up again. One second. The wind whipped my hair into my eyes. I raised the gun. as if threatening to blow me off the roof. faster. Two seconds. He seemed so calm. I dismissed the sudden lack of control to the shock of the coolness of the wind. I followed the forward movement of Guerra with the barrel of my gun. faster. I took a couple deep breaths in an attempt to calm myself. and took aim. waiting. I was shivering all over now. determined to finish this once and for all. I hesitated. Three seconds. waiting. Was I really going to do this? I couldn’t! But I must! Ten years! I could not make up my mind. Harder and harder the wind blew. Suddenly. I could not bear to continue looking at him. I closed my eyes. I noticed that Guerra’s hair billowed in the breeze. I shook my head. until I stood up rapidly. smiling. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Guerra sweeping the hair out of his eyes with his hand. and all this would be over. I stared at him. . trying to concentrate. Somehow.

Then… Silence. All sense of feeling was lost as I grew numb. I watched as Guerra rode past. Shot in the back of the head by Guerra’s security team. yet I watched from a higher elevation than I was originally at. He had won. No. I was dead. It wasn’t. Could this be what it feels like the moment before you kill someone? No. The wind was no longer roaring in my ears. . My hair ceased its brushing against my eyes.

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