Conscience Of An Assassin

It is said that every human being is born with a conscience that speaks to them. It’s like the first time when you steal, you hear a voice loud and clear coming from within you. It warns you of your wrong doing. Then, what makes a robber to rob without guilt? It’s when you choose to ignore your conscience; the voice in you gets softer. You keep doing it, until you don’t hear that voice anymore. For me, I was born without this unique sense. I have never felt guilty in my entire life. At eight, I accidentally killed my neighbor’s cat. I actually felt good about it. When I was sixteen, I beat up a boy so bad, even his parents could not recognize him. I enjoyed every bit of it. I went to prison at the age of twenty one and was released three years later. I never regretted my mistakes. In fact, I wanted revenge. 
                Now, thirteen years later, I’m a professional assassin with a standard issue military sniper in my hands. My target sitting at 200 meters away, with clear visibility. Three minutes before I pull the trigger, I hear a voice. A voice I have never heard before. “Don’t do this!” Is this my conscience? Why now? Why after all these years? I have never hesitated to pull the trigger. Many high profile figures have felt the tip of my bullet, and I have never had a second thought. My target is Reverend Paul Wolf. He was from a small religious community. He founded a non-profitable organization that provides shelter for homeless kids in the country. Unfortunately for him, he messed with the wrong people in the effort to legally win a land, where he wanted to build a shelter home. 
                Two more minutes before he finishes his speech. I still have a clear shot. My eyes have never gone astray. Always focused on my target, going for the one kill shot, however this time I can’t help but notice, there must be at least two hundred kids cheering for him. The smile on their faces, the expectations and hope. But why? Why is this happening to me now? I just have to pull the trigger as I always did and it will all be over. Bang! And it’s over. If I don’t kill this man, I will be hunted down. There’s no turning back. 
                I have him on target now and my finger is on the trigger. As I tilt my head for a better aim, a drop of sweat flows down my forehead and drops to the ground. I swallow some spit to wet my dry throat. Thirty seconds on the clock. I adjust my sniper to the right position. A blind girl walks up the stage and reaches out a white rose to the Reverend. I know that girl. I’ve seen her sleeping under the wooden shade at the alley beside my hotel. No! I have to take this shot. Ten seconds on the clock. My hands shiver. Five, fore, three, two, Bang! 
                I took the shot. I could hear the cries of many. First time in my entire life, I had tears flowing out of my eyes. The white rose was covered in red blood. First time in my life, I missed a shot, on purpose. I shot the man who hired me. He was the chief guest. A political icon but corrupted in the inside. He was the Mob’s puppet. I was immediately spotted by the security force but I did not make any attempt to escape. I waited to be caught. Not sure why. Probably because I had found my conscience.