“Oh I’m going somewhere to disappear, but not before I do this,” Phil said to my face.
I looked to the fishermen again. My heart dropped to the bottom of my stomach. I saw both men aiming rifles in our direction.
Phil followed my eyes over the river.
“What the fuck do you keep looking at?” Phil asked.
The blasts hit dead perfect on in Phil’s chest and blew him back away from me. I let out the deepest breath of my life when I looked down at Phil and saw the life drain from his face in a couple of seconds – before he could even reach for his gun.
“Fuck you,” I muttered under my breath.
I’m now in a location I cannot name, but my exact locations isn’t that important. My state of mind is much more essential. Just know that it is in a good place.
My days of being The Aneurysm are long gone and I’m never going back. No way. I’m happy now. I’m just lucky that I saved up enough of a nest egg over the years during my work and had the warden’s daughter to vouch for me that I had nothing to do with what Phil tried to do to her.
It didn’t take long for the authorities to vet me. I had met most of them over the years in my line of work. It was mostly smiles, handshakes, warm cups of coffee and apologies.
I tell people my story sometimes and I see them get physically ill. They wonder how I did it all those years and how I came out on the other end as a person who is relatively stable. I generally debate my stability with these people for a bit before moving on and explaining to them my nickname.
I just tell those folks that I meant no offense when I did my job, I brought no emotion, no thoughts, no feelings, I was just an aneurysm, I was there to end your life in an instant and for no particular personal reason. Needless to say, I haven’t made a lot of friends in my new hometown.