An Imperial Affliction

Chapter 2 - Indifference is only a mask to tell the world "Fuck off"

Indifference is only a mask to tell the world "Fuck off" and "Screw you". Not many people can cut through that, though.

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The flat owner of 220 twisted on his bed for the 50th time tonight. He gave up on sleeping, glaring around for the lack of sleep and cursing his fate as why he chose this flat 3 years ago. He nearly threw away the blanket and headed for the bedroom door, murmuring something about teaching manners to the next flat owner.

Outside his flat, he turned and headed for his next flat, 221. He knocked it, rather uncivilly for 3 AM in the morning. But all his anger faded and he stood flustered, stammering as the flat owner opened door and stood in front of him.

The flat owner was a She, of course.

And she was standing with a gun in hand, her face devoid of any emotion.

"Um. . . " The man opened and closed his mouth for some minutes, unsure of what to do.

The woman just cocked her head, waiting for explanation. The man gulped, his eyes going back and forth to the gun and her face, "There was some. . . noise. . . coming. . ."

She cut him, "It won't happen again." and shut the door on his face rather loudly. He stood there, stunned, for a good 3 minutes before heading back.

As he settled in his bed once again, he heard the gun went off, and then everything was silent.

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She could not sleep. She does not sleep. Sleep was a privilege she doesn't have any more.

So instead, the night for her is just some idle hours to pass, no work to distract her. She tried trolling outside for some nights, trying to feel at ease in the dark and loneliness, but failed miserably. Her every sense was alert, as if expecting something, And nothing happened.

So she stayed in her flat, circling in her room with a gun in hand, and waiting for the sun to rise.

But today was different. after many months a real work to do, not just walking through red light areas and trying to gather information for a Man which was so important for her, but rest of the world give a damn about. A real work, a real case. Trying to catch criminals and brainstorming with real people.

It felt. . . normal. After years she felt something close to normal. But of course, after years she did the one thing in which she was so good at. Why she resigned come again?

Oh yeah, inefficiency to work with team. She snorted, it's more like inability to trust the people from the department which didn't support her when they should have.

She might miss that, but she doesn't want to go back to that. Alone is what protects her.

But today was different, so tonight she could not just go back to her old habit, circling in her flat with gun in hand. Instead she took out the cricket ball from drawer and sat on the floor, catching it every time as she threw it across the opposite wall.

Then there was a knock around 3 AM.

Sometime she forgets, even if she wants so badly, she is not alone. Her actions affect others too.

She slams the door shut on her neighbor, sit quietly on the previous place on floor, throw the ball in air and then put a bullet through it. it hit the ball at the exact center, and she stared at the ball for the rest of the night, the hole and smoke coming out of it.

She snaps out of it when the cell phone vibrates in her jeans pocket. She picks on the second ring, as usual.

"And here I thought you will sleep soundly as your daughter is home safely."