The shoot

She entered the room.

It was a dimly lit room. It had only one small bulb hanging from the ceiling, in the middle of the room.

There was a crazy look in her eyes, a look that defied sanity and reason.

The right pocket of her jeans was bulging in the shape of a gun.

She advanced towards a chair kept directly under the bulb. A man was sitting on the chair with his hands, legs and body tied to the chair.

She stood in front of the chair and laughed in a way that was both satanic and maniacal.

“You cheated on me,” she said, “You…..worthless piece of shit cheated on ME? HOW DARE YOU? HOW DARE YOU? YOU SONOFABITCH.”

She was shouting her lungs out. Suddenly, her voice dropped. She smiled. A faraway look came into her eyes.

“But no. I am not angry. No no no, not at all. I’m just,” she moved her face just inches away from his ear, “hurt. Of course. I guess you know that I love you?” here her voice dropped to a whisper, “and so if you’re not mine, I am not going to let you be anyone else’s. And to help me do that, I am just going to shoot you with this little gun of mine that I have in my pocket. Remember, I love you.”

She kissed him on the cheeks and drew herself up to her full height.

She took the gun out of her pocket. She cocked it and aimed it carefully.

And placed her fair index finger with a long, manicured nail painted in red, on the trigger.

There was also a third presence in the room.

And a fourth.

And a fifth.

Three pairs of eyes had been watching the drama unfolding in front of them.

One of those pairs, sparkled.

Like the sun changing colour from yellow to red during sunset, the sparkle in his eyes changed to panic. The owner of the eyes, the director, suddenly recalled that he had found a bullet missing from his collection in the morning.

The panic changed to desperation.

He frantically shouted out, “Stop, stop.”

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