I Shot At ...

I stayed in a three room apartment, Thamby taking the middle room, and the master bedroom was empty. The master bedroom has an attached balcony connected facing east, sunrise.

Study room was quite a big room, a typical rectangular, lighted by flourescent lights. All study tables are arranged to face the front of the room, there were 3 long tables.
I took the second one, thamby the third. First one was unoccupied.

My Mentor used to serve the Marines. But he appealed to be relieved of duty due to personal reasons. Intelligent, agile and always alert. According to him, it was these qualities that kept him alive through the darkest days with the Marine Corp. But he never spoke of those "dark days".
He lives a pretty normal life now, owned a duplex and painted white and the furnishings complemented the colour of the walls. White. Pure.

It was an era where guns are man's best friend. It keeps you alive. People don't roam around town unarmed, it's too silly to do so. Everyone owns one, and its not uncommon that people get shot dead every now and then. People had come to accept that Death is part of life. That kind of death. Some will just try to take God's job at their own hands.

A girl shifted into the apartment today. I wasn't aware because I was out with my mentor. What I didn't know was, she occupied a table at the study room, shifted my some things into a box while others were simply strewn all over the place. Her things were arranged nicely on MY table, in order of sizes and colors, very much how a person with obsessive compulsive disorder would do.

We weren't friends in the first place. But I knew her well. My observant nature. By the time I stood at the entrance to the study room, I can feel myself burning. Eyeing my belongings that were now scattered on the floor, this is definitely too much. Others in the room took a glance at me, but did nothing. That girl gave me a cold stare, and told me things are going to go her way from now onwards. Surprisingly, I didn't stand my ground. I simply walked away. Instinct.

I shot a couple of people. I fired rounds. My Heckler and Koch XM8 rifle, which is now extinct proved to kick some real ass. It was mostly for self defense. No psychotic intention of killing.

People get killed for no reasons. Bodies were never buried, they were just dumped out of sight unceremoniously.

*
I was awaken rather abruptly by the sound of my alarm clock.
There were alot of faces in my dreams that I can remember, but were not able to stitch into the story above. Why these faces? And the killing?