[ WP ] The assassin was sent to kill a good man , to this day it haunts him still .

I do n't really keep up with current events; I find that the less I know about people, the better. I suppose one has to be a bit misanthropic to go into my line of work. After all, you ca n't exactly be a people person if you kill people for a living. 
 
 The contracts I had up until this point had been pretty small: A cheating husband here, a bitch of a boss there, etc. This particular contract, however, was a big one: $ 1,000,000 for a single man. That would be enough money for me to finally get out of the game, enough for me to take Amanda to one of those fancy Swiss clinics. This could be the one that solves all our problems. 
 
 So as I got set up on the roof, I was n't thinking about WHO I was killing; I was thinking about WHAT I was getting. It was a frame of mind that I had cultivated over the years, as a sort of way of coping with the guilt. 
 
 I peered through the scope to find my target: A tall, strapping man wearing a well-cut suit. He was sitting just behind the podium, awaiting his turn to address the crowd. Beside him sat a slim, shapely woman with dark skin and curly dark hair; on her lap was a little girl, a miniature version of the woman, in a pretty green dress. 
 
 As the man got up from his seat, my crosshairs moved with him to the podium. I let him start his little speech before taking a deep breath and- 
 
 **click** 
 
 The bullet had hit him through the side of his head, causing his body to go spinning like a dance macabre. I could n't help but chuckle as I watched everyone scurry away, panicking like ants under a magnifying lens. However, the smile ran away from my face as I watched the new widow clutch her husband's body, sobbing on his chest. I was just about to pull my eye away from the scope when I saw that little girl, now standing up, staring directly at me. Not panicking like the audience. Not weeping like her mother. Just staring at me with an expressionless gaze, almost like she saw where I was. 
 
 I quickly stood up and took apart my gun, packing it in a faux guitar case. I could n't get the little girl out of my head, giving me that unnerving stare. As I rushed my way to the elevator, I tried forgetting about the little girl, about what I just did to her, and about how she knew I was the one who did it. *That's stupid, * I told myself. *No one knows it was you! Why would she know it was you? * 
 
 As I stepped outside the back exit, I could hear the police cars approaching the building. Deciding to cut my losses, I threw my guitar case into the nearby river and began walking briskly into the building next door. Throwing away my gloves into a trash can by the door, I proceeded to the front entrance of the building, where a crowd of people had gathered to watch the police raid the building I had just come out of. I suppressed a smile as I watched them file in, one by one, not knowing that I was just next door. 
 
 As I walked away from the scene of the crime, I passed a department store window with several TVs on display. Another group was watching attentively, like little old ladies in church. Knowing what they were watching, I nevertheless decided to see it for myself. 
 
 ``... And we are now getting reports that the police have just entered the Ziggurat Hotel, the suspected vantage point of the assassin. The Ziggurat has been closed for 3 weeks now for renovations. The owners of the Ziggurat have yet to be contacted.'' 
 
 `` For those of you just tuning in, we are reporting that Dr. Abel Galán, president of Cervantes Labs, has been assassinated. Dr. Galán was a pioneer in cancer treatment, developing several low-cost alternatives to chemotherapy. He leaves behind his wife, Dr. Mia Galán-Baxter, and his daughter Irene.'' 
 
 I felt myself go numb as I saw that little girl's face on the screen. She seemed so happy in the picture they showed, not at all like the hollow husk that stared back at me through my scope. Slowly, I peeled my eyes from my the screen as I walked away from the crowd. 
 
 -- - 
 
 I kept my eyes straight ahead as I walked through the hospital corridor, clutching the roses I bought tightly. I could feel their eyes on me: Doctors, nurses, patients, even the janitors. It was impossible for them to know, but I could n't help but feel like they resented me. Like they knew what I had done just two days ago, what I had taken away from them. 
 
 As I came to room 2103, I took a deep breath. *Do n't let her see what you've done, * I tell myself. *Do n't let her see what you've taken from her. * Steeling myself, I put on a fake smile before stepping through the door. `` Hey, Mandy,'' I say softly. `` You feeling alright?'' 
 
 Amanda looked away from the TV, her face brightening. `` What's the bouquet for?'' she smirked. 
 
 `` Well, it's kind of a special occasion,'' I grinned. `` We're going to Switzerland tomorrow night!'' 
 
 Her eyes widened in surprise. `` Really?! But I thought that would cost-'' 
 
 `` Hey, what can I say? The people on Kickstarter really pulled through!'' I lied. 
 
 She let out a beautiful laugh, the first one I'd heard in years. She pulls me down to kiss her, and for a brief moment, I forgot all about my crime. 
 
 When we pull apart, her face is flush with emotion, like it was on our wedding day. However, the smile quickly faded away as her eyes slid behind me. I turn around to see that the news is on the TV. 
 
 `` Police have yet to find the man responsible for the assassination of Dr. Abel Galán, the pioneer of cancer treatment. ACPD have yet to release any potential suspects, though they have reported that they are following several leads. There will be public funeral at St. Michaels Cathedral this Saturday at noon.'' 
 
 Amanda looks at me, worry in her eyes. `` That would n't be anyone from work, would it?'' she asks knowingly. 
 
 I put on an unconvincing grin. `` Something THAT high-profile? Nah, could n't be.'' 
 
 She raises an eyebrow at me. `` Then why are you holding those roses so tight?'' 
 
 I look down to see that I had the bouquet in a death grip. Loosening my fingers, I could that a rose thorn had stuck itself to my thumb, dripping blood down my hand.
