Alexander watched Anna as she slept peacefully on the hospital bed. He had been watching her for the past thirty minutes and he didn't know why he hadn't done what he came here for.
He moved closer to her bed, then reached for the gun in the small of his back and pointed it directly at her head. He was done waiting, now he should proceed. Just one bullet… that was all.
His finger hovered around the trigger, ready to pull. But it was as if the trigger was stuck. His hand felt weak and the gun suddenly became heavy. What was happening to him?
He had never been hesitant to do this before. But at the same time, he never killed anyone innocent.
'Fuck it,' he muttered under his breath, and tightened his grip on the gun, trying to force himself to pull the trigger. She wasn't innocent, Alexander reminded himself. She was 'his' blood. She was part of the reason he suffered so much.
