There she is. McLean wasn't lying when he said she's not hard to miss.

"Do you see her?" he asks through my earpiece eagerly.

"I see her, sir," I reply, "She just left."

"Get the job done," he says before hanging up.

I sigh, narrowing my eyes against the bright sun and trying to get closer to the girl.

It was a shame, really.

The girl's not bad looking, and she has this fiery hair that I can't seem to ignore.

They say she's mentally unstable, a danger to the people around her. She doesn't look dangerous, really, but then again, I'd said that about the last redhead we'd taken care of, that completely insane girl who'd tried to burn her parent's house down.

"Hurry it up, agent!" McLean's voice echoes suddenly in my earpiece, startling me out of my thoughts.

"Yes, sir," I reply.

I walk towards the girl, pulling out my pistol, and pointing it at the back of her head.

She giggles into her cellphone, turning slightly, and spotting me. Her phone drops to the ground.

Her eyes meet mine, silently pleading, begging.

"M-my name is Scarlett," she says, "I have a little brother. He's twelve."

I know what she's trying to do. She's trying to make my sympathize.

McLean had warned me about these kinds of people.

"The second you let your guard down, Noah," he 'd said, "Is the second you'll be killed."

These people are dangerous, Noah.

Kill her. Pull the trigger.

My body thinks before my mind does and before I realized what was happening the girl was dead.

You're a monster Noah. You can't keep doing this.

I leave the scene before the police show up.

It was hard, watching another one I'd shot end up on the news, her family vowing to catch the sick person who'd shot their perfect angel.

I turn off the television, sitting in the dark for a few moments before heading to my bedroom.

I went to brush my teeth, completely disgusted by the reflection I saw in the bathroom mirror.

You're too far gone Noah.

I lie in bed, and, unable to sleep, pull out my cell phone.

I dialed the number. I still knew it by heart, hoping the number was still her's.

"Hello," I heard her gruff voice say on the other end.

"Eva.. it's Noah," I say quietly, barely above a whisper.

"Noah?" she says, "Where have you been?"

"It- it's not important," I say, "I just need to talk to you.'

"Okay, I guess, but I still want an explanation." Eva says.

"I'm done, Eva," I tell her, "I'll be gone soon."

"I hope you're not saying what I think you're saying." she says.

"Goodbye, Eva." I say, hanging up before she could respond.

I really don't know why I called her. I guess I just needed to tell someone.

I get out my pistol. The same pistol I used to kill so many innocent people.

I press the gun to my temple, mumbling a silent apology to anyone who may still care.

For a brief moment I wonder if I'll be on the news like the girl Scarlett was today. Maybe I'll see her where I'm going.

Then I pull the trigger.