Pink

Storm came. Wind, strong, fierce, merciless, dominates the universe. The house looks like an empty shell. She secures her untraceable Glock. She walks through the double French doors. She stands still and takes a shallow breath. Outside, the rain falls. It's now, or never.

She may die in the process. She may die and thus fail. But that's okay. She has chosen this lonely road. Out of her free will. She has no reason to live whatsoever. Everything she once had is now lost. The solid coldness of the gun is the only thing left, as well as a desire to revenge. To get even. To scream as loud as possible. To shout, to yell, to sound a protest. The rain is heavy. The wind is wild. No one will hear the noise. Obey the law. Bend the law. Break the law. Justice is such a tricky word.

Happiness always comes to an abrupt end. Nothing, nothing, ever lasts. Forever is a fairytale. Tomorrow won't be a better day. But at least she can have a closure. She has to do something. She has to try her best. Even if her effort and the result may both be pointless. She takes a silent step forward. The lump in her throat remains there. Blood rushes her veins. Stay calm. Beware of your surroundings. She hides in a tree's shadow. She smells the scent of exotic flowers. She inches closer. And closer.

A gunshot shatters the world.

Jeanne Ellen?

Hector?

Attack.

Danger.

A silhouette moves. She jumps forward. She locks eyes with a man. She pulls the trigger. Death. Forever surprise. Frozen. Something tugs at her heart when the man falls. Shoutings. Running footsteps. The dead man's face looks familiar. She tries to stay cool and composed. She tries to find comfort in the weight of her gun. More gunshots. She turns a corner and takes cover behind a wall. The decoration of this place is tacky. The furniture seems expensive. She has a mission to accomplish. She has to find and eliminate her target. Someone yells in Spanish. Or is it Italian? She recalls the first time she grabbed hold of a gun. The firm warm hands. The bright almost black eyes. The curving perfect lips. The Million Dollar Smile. Ranger. The man she will always love. The father of her tiny lost child. She's here to revenge. She's here to die. Maybe the pain will then stop. She's already in Hell...

She blinks. She sees the approaching men and the guns in their hands. She failed to pay attention and took a wrong turn. There's no way out. She's trapped. She hasn't gunned down her target. She won't be able to track down the traitor. All those careful plans and preparations. She wants to laugh at herself. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. She's about to die here. With too many regrets.

She tightens her grip of the gun. She wonders if she'll have time to take aim. One of the men laughs. Another one sneers. The rest of them raise their guns. Now it's time for everything to—

Something explodes.

The men drop to their knees and one by one collapse on the floor.

The world didn't end.

Nothing feels real.

Chaos.