[ WP ] In the future you can apply to the government for a killing permit . What it is is a piece of paper that exempts you from any legal action for the murder of one person of your choice . Describe one man 's experience with this permit .

The permit weighed heavy in my pocket as I approached the apartment building. The gun rested painfully on my hip under my jacket. I took the steps up to the fourth floor one at a time. Looking down as if to inspect each step before ascending the next one. My mind raced through my past against my will. I remember every moment with her, and every agony without her. 
 
 She was the one. Period. That was it. There was no one like her. No one who could ever replace her. She was so perfect. So beautiful. So kind and caring. She actually saw me as a person rather than something to be pushed aside or avoided. No one had ever treated me like she did. 
 
 And no one had ever hurt me like she did. 
 
 “ I ’ m sorry, it just isn ’ t going to work. I like you a lot. But more like a brother. I still want to be friends. I hope you understand. ” 
 
 The words echoed in my ears as I approached her door. The revolver cleared its holster and the hammer slammed back into position. I raised it to eye level, lifting my hand to knock on her door. She wouldn ’ t feel a thing, she deserved that at least. 
 
 And then a thought struck me. It hadn ’ t been that she didn ’ t like me at all. It had been that she liked someone else. Frantically my mind covered all the possibilities. All the potential “ targets. ” I stood frozen on her doormate. Arm and gun raised. Prepared for an action that I could no longer complete. It hadn ’ t been her at all. It wasn ’ t her fault that she was more attracted to other guys. 
 
 It had been me. It was always me. I was because I wasn ’ t good enough. And if I wasn ’ t good enough right now, I never would be. 
 
 The permit nearly rips as I yank it out of my pocket. Scanning it quickly I find the section that I need. The section on specifying who you want to kill and why. As I suspected, there is a loophole in this situation of love lost. 
 
 … 
 
 BANG!! The sound echoes through my apartment. I spring to my feet, spilling noodles all over the floor. I run to the door to see what created the sound. The peep hole is covered by some kind of red paint. I listen for a moment more. Then, hearing nothing, I open the door slowly and peek out. 
 
 The destroyed face of a young man falls into the room as I open the door. His head little more than a massive red hole. Viscera and gore splash over the carpet. Bile and vomit fills my mouth as I run for the phone to call 911. 
 
 I scream into the receiver, “ a man just shot himself on my doorstep! ” My heart slams against my chest as I look at the body from down the hall. I see the permit clutched in his hand, and know that he was here for me. 
 
 But even as I recognize him, I realized that I have only spoken to him twice. 

