[ WP ] You are legally allowed to commit murder once , but you must fill out the proper paperwork and your proposed victim will be notified of your intentions

Every morning I wake ten seconds before the letterbox flap rattles. By the time it does I ’ m out of bed and half way down the stairs. Maybe it ’ ll come today. 
 
 Legal-murder Britain was still in its infancy, still teething and getting felt out. Last year it finally got passed so that everyone had the right to one murder, not just voted community members like it was before. I ’ d had my hand in that, of course. The right words to the right people. That it meant I would now legally be allowed to kill somebody was nothing to do with it. Paperwork took twice as long to come through as a result. 
 
 Nope, still hadn ’ t come. 
 
 One hour till I was at my desk. Another before coffee and then another three before lunch. That ’ s when I see her. Every weekday without fail. By now I knew Lauren ’ s route and timings to lunch, I had to. She didn ’ t know I knew, but she would once that letter finally came. Every day I prayed for it to arrive. I was worried I would lose my nerve and not go through with it, if it didn ’ t come soon. I turned left onto Main, losing sight of the women I ’ d kill for. Quick lunch, back to desk for one-thirty, five and a half hours and I was home. 
 
 More news about religious groups protesting the nationwide change on legal-murder. They could protest all they wanted; it was a good system that worked well, it wasn ’ t going anywhere. Sorry Lauren. Most people weren ’ t patient enough to wait the months it would take for approval to come through. That didn ’ t mean they ’ d murder illegally, not with the automatic death penalty that results. You had to wait if you wanted it enough. Most people didn ’ t. That was the beauty of the system. They ’ d RMR their request before the approval came, once things had cooled down between them and their would-be victim. Murder rates were down. 
 
 Another whole evening lost to staring at a screen. Teeth brushed. Bed. 
 
 * 
 
 Out of bed, half way down the stairs and like clockwork the letterbox rattled as the mail came through. Red. I rushed down the rest of the stairs two at a time. Yes, red, government official. It was here. I opened it. Read it to check. Yup. This was it. My heart started to race. 
 
 Time should have ran slow but I somehow I calmed down on the drive to work. I went about my morning as normal. Eric had some things for me to figure out, so I was distracted with that I guess. The clock struck one. I was out of the office and down Pike Avenue for the fifty-fourth consecutive workday. Lauren came out of her fancy block wearing a well fitted skirt and blouse. I followed. Now the adrenaline started to pump. 
 I ’ d waited so long for this. Planned it exactly. 
 
 Right onto Main at last! Following into the café I already knew she frequented. This is where it would happen. Perspiration seeped out of my palms. She got in line, oblivious to me just five feet behind her. I closed that distance, mind racing, heart thumping, and reached out to touch her shoulder. My left hand was gripping the red envelope in my jacket pocket. 
 
 She turned, her pupils constricting, startled. 
 
 “ Hey L-Lauren, ” I started, pulling the envelope out of my pocket. 
 
 “ Sorry, do I know you? ” 
 
 “ I ’ m good thanks. You work with the GLM right? Trying to overthrow… ” I continued in autopilot, playing out the script I had written in my mind, “ … I just got into Whitechapel which means… ” awkwardly waving the red envelope, “ … together we could make real progress. I thought we could get a dri-. ” Oh shit. Blood rushed into my face. Reality was slowing catching up. “ It ’ s me, Peter, we met after your talk in June. On reversing the legal-murder laws. ” 
 
 “ Ohh. Erm. Okay, yeah, sure. ” She said, not interested. Of the hundreds of mindless drones she ’ d met at the event, ‘ Peter ’ was not one she remembered. 
 
 I staggered, felt sweat beading on my brow and took a breath, “ I helped get the murder-for-all motion through, ” had to pause for breath again and swallowed hard. 
 
 “ Yeah, I wasn ’ t a fan of that, ” her perfect eyes and shoulders started to turn away from me in unison. 
 
 “ I knew the extra bureaucracy would slow the whole system down and thus reduce murders. Now I ’ m in Whitechapel I can really help… ” I trailed off as she turned around, more interested in the menu than with me. 
 
 * 
 
 Now time decided to run slow. I felt empty and dead inside. Eventually I was allowed to leave the office. No one noticed me. Eventually I got home. I sat down, choked on a sob and then cried openly and alone, thinking of the woman I would have killed for. 
 
 Murder rates continued to fall. 
 
 I walked my lunch route for another few months, watching her. Eventually I stopped. Eventually I realised what an egg I was being and moved on. Eventually I married Anne who was a few stone overweight. Eventually we had kids and eventually I retired. I left politics for good after that red letter day. 
 
 I never used my one-kill. Almost nobody did. 
 
 Murder rates continued to fall. It really was a good system. Worked well. 

