Morning Mist

in #hiredgun7 years ago

To be or not to be, was never a question, but to kill or not to kill was and I always answered it Yes! as long as the money was right. By now you might have guessed what do I do for a living, Yes, I was a hired gun. I have done things which I am not proud of, have killed people for money, just pay me the amount and the job will be done, no questions asked. But things have changed now, I don’t stay in that goddamned slum from where it all started. Now, I am a part of one of the high-class societies located in the posh area of Mumbai. It’s away from the city rush. All occupants are millionaires. I do enjoy their company and feel related to them in a strange way, for I have killed few of their relatives too.

Money has a real power to change the perspective of people, when I was a slum dweller many a times I have been arrested for petty crimes which I did not commit and now when I tell people that I have earned my fortune by killing , they just laugh it off. To be honest I made the real chunk of money when my investment in stock market paid off and it’s been years I did not have to take a contract. Now I proudly call an angel my wife, who blessed me with a child. Ideally that should make me a contented man, enjoying the company of millionaires, occasional cocktail parties in classiest restaurants, driving expensive cars etc.

But, yes there is always a but to Butt into your happiness. It’s been three months I am losing my peace of mind over small things. Getting nightmares so often, finally demons of my past have started resurrecting and ruining the fortress of my happiness. I have developed insomnia, started hallucinating, my sugar levels have shot up.

I never disclosed my real job to anyone, But I had to tell my psychiatrist, well I am covered by Therapist-patient privilege and his word doesn’t mean squats in a court of law. I asked him if I should start doing it the old way. Because maybe I am missing the action in life, that nervousness, that focus, always being aware of surroundings while acting careless. Obviously, he denied, he thinks that his medicines have enough power to erase my past, but unfortunately it doesn’t. I had to take it up on me to find a solution to my situation.

So here I am at the age of 42, on a chilly November night, it’s 4 AM in the morning, an hour of wolf, a wolf is known to lurk in the darkness waiting for its prey. A time when bad things happen to people. A legend has it that this is the time when a gateway is opened between two worlds: the one which is our habitat and the other which is a cold, wet dungeon where you can hear hateful breathing and the gnashing of teeth.
Well people like me strategically choose this time to finish our business. That could be the sole reason why most of the people get killed during wee hours. This is the time when guards are not as alert as they were at the beginning of their shift, while waiting for the change of shift they are trying to keep themselves from stealing a power-nap, even stray dogs are drowsy and they put a blind eye to any stranger.

I am all set to do it again, do something that I have never been proud of, but had to do it because of restraints of life. Nevertheless, I did it because it was a necessity but now I will be doing it to cure myself. I get up from my bed, wear an extra layer of clothing, dress up to my cheekbones and cover my head and ears with a muffler. I don’t want anyone to recognize me. I slip out of the house and to avoid streetlights and security, I take a long route towards the back alley of a community hall, which leads to woods. It’s pretty dark beyond the wall. All the second thoughts of going back are gone after I jumped off the wall, it was a fine line which is crossed now, I no longer belong to a rich class, I am just another guy who got to do what he got to do.

That long-gone nervousness has started creeping in, that feeling of uncertainty is back. The sinister morning mist is closing in on me, moonlight is getting absorbed by the mist and in return playing tricks with my mind, shapes are getting formed everywhere . I am scared. I have never been immune to fear, in reality fear of getting caught has always helped me to be extra cautious in all my jobs and that’s the reason why I have never been caught. But this was different, I was scared of darkness, was scared of all these images forming in the hollows of the woods. I touch my revolver,its reassuring grip helps me in getting my nerve back. I look around, there is nobody. My maid had spotted a leopard in this area a couple of weeks ago. Leopards are not man eaters but I did not want to leave anything to fate.

It’s been 30 minutes I am walking down the trails, if my calculation is right, I should have reached the railroad by now, its 4:30, I do not have much time, very soon train traffic will start and I do not want to get spotted by passengers. I increase my pace and at last I am near that railway bridge. I can hear the locomotive sound of a train engine from distance, sound comes closer as train chugs down the track, I hide behind a tree trunk. Its 4:37, as per the schedule, there will not be any train for next 20 mins. Time is of great essence now, I have only 20 minutes to spare. After 9 years I am going to do something which no-one in my social circuit will ever imagine, forget about others, even I wouldn’t have dreamt about it a couple of months ago. But It’s been three days, three painful days, I could not sleep, could not eat, could not have a heartfelt conversation with anyone, my mind was always occupied by this doubt, whether I will be able to perform or not. The exertion caused by 40-minute walk and the amount of water which I had consumed before starting has started taking its toll. I am ready, I am ready to do it, I take out the tissue papers, squat down on railway track and I do it, even in this blistering cold I could feel the beads of sweat all over my forehead. Oh, what a relief. After three months of constipation I have indulged myself in the pleasure of a successful bowel movement.

I do not have enough time, I clean myself, up my trousers and start walking back to my house.

The morning rays of a winter Sun has started clearing the mist. Birds are singing their morning song for me.

Hell Yeah!! It’s a beautiful morning again.