4th of July 2019
Times Square, New York
11:51 am

I smiled to myself as I dragged the guard’s body to the side. Poor b****rd was too focused on the crowd he didn’t see me sneak up behind him. One quick slash and he was on the floor clutching his throat and within moments perfectly still. I opened my briefcase and assembled my CheyTac Intervention Sniper rifle carefully. I added a high power scope with a laser rangefinder on the top instead of the standard scope, and also switched the standard barrel with an internally silenced barrel. I didn’t want this job to go wrong. I pulled out my Glock18c machine pistol and screwed a silencer onto it. I flicked the switch to fully automatic; made sure the 33-round magazine was full and then laid it on the ledge next to my sniper rifle. I made sure the door behind me was locked and then got into position. I looked through the scope and adjusted the range by the knobs on the scope. The crowd was approximately 950 meters away from me and my target somewhere in that screaming crowd. I turned to the stage right in the middle of Times Square while I was perched on the building directly in front of it. Lady GaGa was singing her latest hit “Chubby Boy”, quite a funny song about this little chubby guy she met who fainted when he shook her hand. I laughed to myself and went back to scanning the crowd for my target. A glow caught my eye and I swiveled the rifle towards it. Sure enough it was the girl I was looking for; the love of my life.
She has light brown eyes, and straight silky brown hair. She looks slightly Chinese although she’s not. She’s got cute dimples which give her a fantastic smile; it melts my heart every single time. She has soft smooth cheeks and cute lips. She’s not that tall but she’s really thin. She likes maltesers, and real potato sticks. She likes flowers, red roses to be precise with a not too long stalk. Her favorite color is red; the color of love. She loves music and as I zoomed in a little more I could see the outline of her limited edition iPod in her favorite jean’s pocket. She loves math and loves all those number which I find truly annoying. She has a lot of crushes on the famous handsome guys, mostly the married guys. She loves walks on the beach at sunset and lying on the grass pointing at clouds. She loves the way I play with her hair, or the way I used to. Things aren’t the same anymore. I took out a cigarette from my pocket and put it in my mouth; then I stopped and threw it away. She doesn’t like me smoking. She doesn’t like the way I get jealous when she talks to other guys. She didn’t like it when I broke that guy’s jaw bone and arms when he asked her for the time. She says I get jealous very easily and I’m very protective of her. She doesn’t like my violent ways and hates it when I fight with anyone. She hates it when I go to those street fights and hates it even more when I win. She doesn’t like pets and animals but she doesn’t like me hurting them too. She doesn’t like it when I go hunting. She didn’t like it when I became a sniper. Our break-up was pretty bad. I got drunk one night when I went out with some friends. Then I went to her place and caused a huge scene and in the end slapped her. I vowed to myself to never touch alcohol again. And right now I have her in my crosshairs of my sniper rifle.

I took a deep breath. And waited. I had her dead in my sights. All I had to do was pull the trigger and blood and brains would be everywhere and it would be end of the pain I have had to bear for a very long time. A small twitch of my finger and the pandemonium would erupt in the crowd. Just. One. Small. Twitch. I held my breath a bit longer. A man moved towards her, and suddenly thrust his hand in his pocket. I turned the rifle towards him and squeezed the trigger. The rifle jerked and the man fell to the floor his hand on his eye. Within seconds he was perfectly still. I smiled. I had just killed the guy who tried to kill my girl. No one gets to kill my girl. Except me. My name is Guardian-Angel and I will make sure no one ever tries to kill the love of my life. Ever.