Hola! Yeah, I'm trying to update all my stories today or at least half of them. The next chapter is almost finished! I'm sorry if there are any mistakes I was more concerned of updated! I know where I'm going with this story so that's a good thing! c:

Thank you to Princess-Girl12, sweetStarre123, im. .rawrr, , and ChocoMintandRock!

Chapter Twelve: Do I Really Want To?

Okay, good, she hates me. She hates me, she hates me, she hates me. This is how it should be. Now I know she doesn't have feelings for me, but that doesn't stop my worrying. It's not enough!

I pace more in my room. It's not enough to know that she doesn't like me and for me to stop feeling like this. I'm not supposed to feel anything! I'm not supposed to feel guilty that she hasn't came out of her room since I yelled at her, which happens to be all day. I'm not supposed to feel bad that her dad wants her dead. I'm not supposed to feel concern about what's wrong with her.

I'm not supposed to feel anything, for her especially, at all!

Before I met her, I didn't feel anything. I made myself believe I did for Jade, after my parents were murdered, but when they died, I forced myself not to feel anything. Now that I'm here, I'm starting to have feelings in general? What the hell is that supposed to mean?!

Great, just freaking amazing. Awesome. Hope you know, I'm being sarcastic. WHY? In that moment, I knock all the books off the top shelf of the bookcase. What time is it? Running my hand through my hair anxiously, I suck in a breath and check the time. 1:47 am. It's time.

She should be asleep right now. Pulling the blue blanket off my bed, I retrieve the items I hid, and stuff them into the side of my belt before pulling my shirt over them. I carefully step to the door, opening it, and swiftly hop to the other side of the hall. Her door is slightly opened. Oh, right, she slammed it shut, but I guess she was that upset to ignore the fact it didn't close all the way.

Why am I letting my mind wonder? I just need to make this fast and easy. Quick and effortless. No thinking at all. At once and painless. Painless. Should she feel pain? Does she deserve it? Or should I just make this easy for her? Okay, okay, stalling again. I know. I just really don't want to do this. -What?

Of course I want to do this! The faster she's gone, the faster things will get back to normal. Will that be better though? The question is if I really want to go back to my lonely, tragic, empty life. Do I? Or is it that I'm afraid of becoming something different? Changing? Feeling again?

Whatever! Beck, just get this over with. You can regret or figure it out later.

I make my way through the door and enter her bedroom. Her red hair catching my eye makes my breath hitch. I step to the side of her bed, and the sight catches me off guard. She's curled up underneath her blanket, like she drowsily pulled it off her face at the last moment with her hands tucked under the side of her face that was faced down on the pillow. The thing that surprises me most? Her tearstained cheeks. My mouth falls open in surprise. Did she really cry herself to sleep? What was I doing go her?

No, no, it can't be all my fault. She was already broken in someway before I brought her here. Besides, whatever that pain was, I was about to take her misery away. Literally, that way we can both be happy. Will I be happy? I wasn't happy before, so whose not to say it'll be worse after this is all done and over.

I shake my head not wanting to answer the question. Pulling out the long sharp knife from behind my back, I place the cold sharp blade underneath her chin. Just slice the right place and this could be over. Easy. I lift her chin with the tip of the blade making her head look up at me with her puffy, red, wet cheeks just making me feel even more guilty. This makes me sick. Ha, to think I'm making myself disgusted with something that I'm doing. I stare at her beautiful face for a couple more seconds.

Yup, definitely sick. Is this what people actually do right before they kill someone? I mean, I should know since I'm an assassin whose been a client of Mr. Valentine for a while now and all. This is what we do, but I actually never killed someone. I'd treat them so badly to the point where they actually wanted to die, and they end up hurting themselves, or some freak accident happens, or Mr. Valentine comes and solves it himself because he wants them gone as soon as possible. I couldn't kill someone, so could I really kill Cat?

I look down at her. She's so beautiful, but if I don't kill her, Mr. Valentine might stop paying me.

'You better not fail me. I want her dead.'

His voice enters my mind. Of course he thinks I've killed the ones he didn't have to. I filled their heads with so much crap or they already had horrible lives and just ended it already. I can't lose this job and I know I couldn't drive this girl into even more insanity. If I lose my job, I'd have to go out in the real world where there is just nothing, but lies and hurt. I know my life is already like that, but take Cat's life for example. Her dad lied to her about me! He hired me to kill her!

Says a lot about life, doesn't it?

A tiny squeak pulls me from my thoughts. My eyes widen. Cat! I quickly look down hoping she doesn't wake up. Her face scrunches up in confusion, but her eyes are still closed. Phew, okay she's still sleeping. Now all I have to do is- she yawns and turns on her other slide… the knife is still touching her perfect skin. In one swift motion, she flips and I hear a slice. Shit!

Shit, shit, shit!

I throw the knife on her bedroom floor and run to the other side of her bed. Oh my god. What did I do?

Well, isn't this what you wanted?

I push the question out of my head and run to Cat's side. She isn't awake. Seriously? You wake up when I'm across the hall yelling or something, but you can sleep through a moment like this where you're about to be killed?

I lift her chin, oh so carefully. I'm shaking and panting and sweat is forming on my forehead. I open my eyes not so ready to see blood pouring from her neck. I let out the breath I've been holding in. There's just a red line across her neck. It's noticeable, if you're looking hard at her. She's not dead.

At least not yet. I take a couple of steps back, and pull out the pistol from my back pocket. With trembling hands, I put my finger on the trigger and get ready to start the gun. I can't do it.

I have to though! Or else, I'll drive myself crazy.

I take another step back, turn my hand, point the gun straight at her head, and look away. The click of the gun loading the bullet and being ready to shoot makes my heart skip a beat. I gulp. Once again my finger runs over the trigger. Here goes everything.

Just as I'm about to pull it, I throw it onto the floor causing a loud smack to sound throughout the room. My trembling arms fall to my sides and I lower my head in shame.

I can't do it.

Why? Why did it have to be this one girl I never meant in my life that had such an effect on me? Why couldn't it have been someone I hated or someone I had no care for? Why couldn't Mr. Valentine had me kill her the first night? No, he had to drag it out so she wouldn't know the truth of her father. But that doesn't even make any sense! Wouldn't it be better if she was gone as soon as possible that way she had no way of knowing the truth of that monster?

I'm such a hypocrite. Calling him a monster? I almost killed my own parents, well was forced to, but then I just watched them get murdered. It didn't even hurt me. Then, who went and agreed to be supported under the wing of Mr. Monster? I did. So I'm completely and utterly worse.

Stumbling to the ground, I grab the two objects I had thrown on the ground moments ago, and rush out, closing the door silently behind me. I chuck them into my room and continue my hastily journey down the long staircase, and stop at the floor before the first one. I rush into the room of filled with a variety types of alcohol and grab a bottle. I don't care what it is. Of course I haven't drank in a long time now, but who cares? I need to get my mind off things.

Chugging down the contents of the first bottle, and going for a second, I come to a conclusion.

If I'm going to stop myself from falling any harder, she has to go. One way or another. The question is can I do it?

No, I know I can.

The real question is, do I want to?