Reflections

Walking into the lobby of the hotel, I knew there was going to be a murder. The sun shone through the front window, bending as it hit the glass. I watched it splatter across the traditional blue hotel carpet decorated with a dizzying paisley. This world was full of problems, and one of those was tacky hotel carpet.

The hotel lobby was filled with happy children and frustrated parents. Every family in the world attempts to take a break, only to figure out time and time again, that it never works. I had long ago decided that not only was I never going to have a family, but, much less, I was never going to attempt to “vacation” with the little bit of family that I couldn’t help but have. I can still hear my mother’s voice when she, inadvertently, found out I was going to be in sunny California.

“Oh, honey! That sounds like a fabulous idea. Why didn’t you tell your father and I? We could have made a trip of –“

I mentally hung up on her, much like how I had ended the conversation previously, and took a moment to soak in the surroundings. The center of the lobby had a little fountain with fake, dusty plants surrounding it. On top of that ridiculous carpet sat multiple faux-comfortable chairs with permanent indents of tourists long gone home. The thought disgusted me. I had long since decided that there were far too many people in this world. Far too many people in the world having far too much sex.

A small child ran across my path. Her bright hair bobbed cheerfully in the sunlight, but her red eyes and teeth-rattling screeches grated on my nerves.

Far too many people having sex and annoying me all to hell with their kids. The world was full of nothingness. The world was filled with problems. I let my eyes scan the room. There was a problem there… and there… and there… I smirked as I felt the cool weight in my pocket. Today, I was going to solve one of the world’s problems. Now, I just had to decide which one.

I’m not quite sure when it occurred to me how much control I had of this world. There are so many people who believe they are nothing, that they can do nothing, and that they have no control over any of their surroundings. I pity them. They have no idea what kind of power they can find within themselves, in their heart, on any major city street corner without a license. My fingers ran over the curved trigger. It was a solid calmness among the chaos of the hotel lobby. No one had any idea of what was going to happen. No one had any idea that was I going to make all their lives that much easier.

I scanned the room, picking out a target. There was a man with a turned up nose behind the counter, it was obvious he hated his job. Why should he have to continue? Then the incompetent bellboy who always managed to let a bag topple off the cart. What benefit was he making in this world? And that man in the corner with his jacket was buttoned wrong, surely he needed to die. Then there were, of course, the screaming children who, I just came to notice, were triplets. I had no doubt that the parents would be thankful if I took care of one of them. However, maybe it was the parents who ought to be laid to rest, for bringing such hellions into the world.

But then I spotted him. Standing stoically in the corner, his nondescript face stared keenly at me. I took in his long dark coat he so arrogantly donned in the summer in southern California. His stance demanded importance with one hand resting coolly in his pocket, but the other clenched into a tight fist, revealing his inner stress. He was the one. I watched as he dared to look me directly in the eye – as if he knew precisely what I intended to do. He dared me to continue. He dared me to rid the world of just one problem.

In a flash I pulled the gun from my pocket. Not even registering the gasps of the visitors to the hotel, I pressed the barrel against my temple and pulled the trigger.

The blood splattered a pattern like the summer sunshine on the full-length mirror which reflected a man lying crumpled on the tacky carpet, who had finally rid the world of all its troubles.



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3/35/06