She stood there pointing a gun at her assailant with such
menace that could have boiled githeri for an entire four-stream high school
full of hungry and adolescent boys. She had killed her husband, and as she put,
took her life in the way only women who’ve lost their husbands can tell.
‘You don’t know how long I have spent dreaming of this day,’
she tells her assailant, who had burgled her way into her house. ‘I have dreamt
that you’d show up so that I can have the pleasure of killing you one more
time.’
The killer lady looks at her with those looks that tell you
that she’s not going get even a single inch size bruise on her body. She’s also
pointing a gun at the good lady, a teacher of languages. It could have been
better, you think, if it had been those asshole mathematics and science
teachers who made those subjects harder than they should have been. But no, on
top of killing her husband, she is pointing a gun at her, a blameless soul, a
soul that just wants to teach students about rhymes, and onomatopoeia. And oral literature.
The conversation goes back and forth between the two ladies
for a tad longer than you expect. She is here. She killed your husband. What
more reason can you have to pull that trigger? Then she suddenly puts the gun
at the base of her chin and pulls the trigger. She sprawls carelessly on the
floor. She is dead.
It’s a movie anyway. That’s how you convince yourself. She
couldn’t have done so in real life. It simply is impossible to wait for such
long for someone who killed your husband, only to give her the luxury of
triumph by committing suicide. The writer of the scene was a sick bastard who
does not understand how the real works. You kind of liked the lady, her Russian
accent was out of this world. You have a thing with accent, learn. It is not a
bad way to conclude a year, you think.
But then the killer lady is the lead villain in the movie
series. She dies and the story comes to an end. But at least the writer should
have found a way of keeping her alive. She should have been captured and even
tortured. You could tolerate her screams, knowing that she alive. Only her
face, and butt should be interfered with. And her hands, and legs, and boobs…gosh…she
should just have been left alone. Intact is how you wanted her to be. WHOLE.
You are a whole kind of person. You have a fetish for anatomically complete
people. Wasn’t killing her husband more than enough.
