Think Before You Kill

The bullet ripped through his flesh, pierced through his internal organs, and came out his back. Surely, he was dead. Julio packed up his things and left. His full name was Julio Castillo. He was a Venezuelan hit man. He was a short, frisky, human being, but was also tough, tended to go against the grain, and stubborn. That is exactly what he was there, stubborn. He killed the man without permission from the boss. The boss was a selfish, Italian man named Roberto Corsi. He didn’t scare Julio, though.
Julio returned to his sketchy, forty dollar hotel room to find Branimir, his partner, sitting in the nauseating reclining chair in the corner looking disappointed and impatient. Branimir Ottoman was a tall, broad shouldered, deep voiced Bulgarian, who was quite the opposite of Julio. He was loyal, and although physically strong, he was mentally weak.
“Well?” asked Branimir in his deep, monotone voice.
“Well what?” replied Julio with a bit of an attitude.
“Did you do it?” asked Branimir.
“What do you think? Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I?”
“I just thought that after I told you the consequences you might change your mind.”
“Listen to me. No one will ever make me change my mind. Never, about anything or anything.”, Julio said, changing his tone from annoyed to angry. He smiled and shook his head and muttered, “You know, your inferiority complex is fully justified.” Branimir lowered his eyebrows and tilted his head in confusion, as he didn’t have the keenest of minds.
Later that night, while Julio went out for a walk, Roberto called.
“Hello?” asked Branimir.
“It is Roberto. Listen, I heard about Julio’s mental lapse. I’m not just going to ignore it and turn the other cheek. I want you to kill him. His head is getting to big. He is starting to rebel.”
“He is my partner. I can’t just…”
“Shut up!” interrupted Roberto. “Did I ask you to debate? No. I asked you to blow his head off. So do it, or else.” He hung up.
Branimir normally did what he was told, without any questions, but this time he did exactly what the boss told him not to do. He debated. Julio was his partner. They had been through it together, through thick and thin, as they say. He couldn’t kill him, no matter how big of a bonehead he was. However, he couldn’t disobey the boss. If you disobey the boss, you are a dead man walking. Now he had a headache. He hated thinking. This situation brought up something in Branimir’s head. He now realized he didn’t want to be a hit man anymore. He wanted to have a wife, kids, and a normal, everyday job. What was he doing with his life? Killing people for money is a job for terrible people. Was he a terrible person? No, he knew that and everyone else knew that. He was a good person. This job was tearing him apart. He punched at the wall in frustration. Again, he threw his fist at the wall. And again. And again. After the fourth punch he realized that punching, crying, and complaining wouldn’t fix anything. He would have to resign. He was positive that Julio would understand.
Julio returned later that night to, once again, find Branimir sitting in that putrid chair. He had his gun in hand, but it wasn’t pointed toward him. It was lying on his lap, looking harmless.
“What are you still doing up?” asked Julio.
“I have business to attend to.”
“What business?”
“My own.” replied Branimir in an attitude. “I need to resign.”
“Listen, nobody retires. You never leave this business, never.” screamed Julio. “You know too much. How am I supposed know that you aren’t going to leave us, snitch on us to the police, and laugh at us as they are walking us to jail.”
“You will just have to trust me.”
“No, that is the first rule of this job, Trust nobody. I’m sorry Branimir.” Julio pulled out his gun and put his bullet through his partner’s aorta, to be sure to kill him. His blood poured out of his artery like water out of an elephant’s trunk. He packed up the dead body in a luggage cart and put a tomato sauce can near the blood. He hurried to pack up when he spotted a note out of the corner of his eye. It read:
I’m sorry, but I couldn’t admit it to you. I felt too ashamed to say it out loud. The reason I left and quit is because Roberto wanted me to kill you. You were my best friend and I couldn’t take it. Hopefully you will understand.
From,
Branimir
Guilt rushed upon him. It felt as if someone just hit him in the stomach with a baseball bat. He grabbed his gun and pointed it to his temple. He got ready to fire, but he couldn’t pull it.
Looking back on that day he still wishes he pulled that trigger. The saying, better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, was false. It stank to have lost his friend that understood him like Branimir. He grabbed his gun and, this time, he pulled the trigger.