Her mission was simple and lucid: take him out. She had been struggling to find the guts and courage to do it, but it was too much for a girl to think. Dealing with it was terrible. She didn’t want anyone to find out, but her friends had approved of her idea. Now her friends are the officers, and she was to obey their law. Taking him out was going to be difficult. She never talked to him too much, and she never thought she would feel about him this way with intense frustration and anger on him and herself. She couldn’t say he wasn’t smart, because he really was. He had won the 6th grade National Spelling Bee, and that trophy, though worthless, was a symbol of great intelligence that she needed in her life.

It was 8 o’clock sharp. He was in the alley she had walked to from the outskirts of the city. He was outside of the neighboring restaurant, which, vibrant with life, spilled mellifluous voices of up and coming artists in the music industry. She stalked about, pulling at the long sleeves of her jacket which fit loosely, swaying in the wind like a dress. With the darkness prowling around her, she stuck to the cool brick walls, cautiously walking towards him. The provincial approach was perfect in her eyes, and as she slips a knife from her pocket, she shouts out, grabbing his shoulders from behind him.

“Boo!”

He nearly jumped ten feet in the air, the expression on his face priceless. However, she became contrite, and cried out in broken sobs her apologies for the scare. The knife was just a present for him, and it was custom made with a stellar sterling silver blade with a bird design at the base of it. He poked out a smile at the sight, accepting the gift, and lauded her kindness and benevolence. What was puzzling to him, however, was why exactly she brought the gift to him. They never talked much, and heck, he didn’t remember her name well. He had asked her why the sudden gifts if they were but mere acquaintances, but the girl shied away, dipping her head ever so slightly.

“Because you won the 6th grade National Spelling Bee!” She left a smile for him to capture, but never the chance to reflect.

She lurked out of the alley, looked back, then ran like a bat out of Hell, sloppily thundering through puddles of water. The prevarication that she made up on the spot split her in half. The spelling bee was three years ago, a silly, stupid reason to give a little gift. Her mission had failed miserably. All she needed to do was take him out, for dinner.