Up.

Up.

Up.

My index finger assaulted the button that determined the temperature of the room. When I was satisfied with the settings, I made sure to demand the holding of them. Otherwise, the settings would change after a single turnover of the system.

From the backpack, now resting on the bed closest to the door, I removed a new pair of AirPods, a deli sandwich, a black guard the size of a quilt, and a pair of binoculars. Neatly, I lined them side by side.

The removal of my coat followed. I folded it in half and then once more before storing it on the bottom shelf of the coat corner. I smoothed the fabric with the black gloves covering my fingers.

There.

I strolled across the suite to the second bed, closest to the window. With one hand, I lifted the mattress, revealing pieces of theAXSR. Time wasn’t on my side, but precision and speed were. In the blink of an eye, the undercarriage of the bed was empty and every component of the sniper rifle was on the temporary comforter.

“Barrel. Stock. Bolt. Forend. Magazine. Trigger. Safety. Chassis. Barrel. Stock. Bolt. Forend. Magazine. Trigger. Safety. Chassis. Barrel. Stock. Bolt. Forend. Magazine. Trigger. Safety. Chassis.”

Repetitive whispers cut through the silence of the room. One piece at a time, I assembled the best long-range rifle on the market. The accuracy was a marksman's dream.

“Barrel. Stock. Bolt. Forend. Magazine. Trigger. Safety. Chassis.”

The well-oiled machine stared at the window of the hotel room, awaiting its performance. I curled my fingers around the window’s edge and pulled backward, welcoming the brutal cold inside the room. As the room flooded with sharp winds, the vents began to rattle. Warm air exited them, combating the effects of the fresh air I’d invited inside.

My legs collided with the end of the bed closest to the door. I retrieved the deli sandwich and binoculars. With the other hand, I swooped up the guard and AirPods. The deli sandwichand AirPods were sat side by side on the small table near the kitchenette, both at a fifteen degree angle.

I slid the dining chair from the table I placed them on and dragged it across the room. Behind the rifle is where I placed it. The guard rested on the back of the chair and the binoculars were placed on the seat of it. I took the second seat at the table.

My head lowered as my thoughts began pouring from my mouth, lowly and slowly.

“Dear God, bless the food I’m prepared to receive. I’m prayerful it won’t be the last meal I digest. Should you determine otherwise, life was good. Continue to keep my father. Heal his heart and nourish his soul. Amen.”

One.

I paused, collecting myself as I chewed the first quarter of the sandwich.

Two.

The second bite led me to the images that flooded my computer screen during the search forher. She, too, had lost a parent. A father.

And, then there was Rhea. Her beauty was distinctive.Salient. Almost unreal. But, there were seven women who’d captured it in seven different ways as evidence that it was possible to possess such staggering beauty.

Lucky girl.

My mother succumbed to life on my eighteenth birthday. It was a day I’d never forget, yet wanted to. Every year I aged, it was a reminder that I hadn’t and would never reach my full potential.

Not because I wasn’t interested, but because I wasn’t capable. A prominent piece of my core had been stripped from me as a young boy. I wasn’t whole. I wasn’t complete. And, I understood at eighteen that I’d never be.Ever.

Three.

My choices since her death lured me into a state of oblivion. My stomach knotted as I bit into the sandwich, taking the third quarter with me.

A gang initiation caused my mother her life. As if it meant nothing. As if she was that disposable. As if the world was a better place without her. As if I was a better person without her. I wasn’t.

That night, I promised my soul to the devil if it meant avenging my mother’s death. It never made it to the pit where I planned to burn while knocking off every individual involved in the slaying of my mother.

The rage I waited for never showed. The anger I expected never consumed me. Instead, an eerie calm bathed me from sun up until sun down. Daily, I dedicated more time to my studies. But, it wasn’t my school lesson that I was invested in.

It was the intricacies of marksmanship. It was intriguing.Welcoming.Inviting. After months of feeling as if I no longer belonged, I felt a sense of purpose.