Note to Self (51) I’ve been waiting for this

My fingertips impatiently tapped on the top of my desk. I couldn’t bear it any longer, yet I had to remain patient. I was supposed to receive the package three hours ago.

What was wrong with these people? I thought we had an agreement. The brand new gun I bought earlier was lying flat at the bottom of my drawer, its barrel longing to be filled with burning powder and smoke. When I ran my finger on the trigger, I felt a twitching sensation in my pants. It was good stuff, baby, the real one. Soon I would be a man.

And now what? I hated feeling like this, always on the edge, nervous to finally be relieved of my duty. This was no game. Somebody was going to die tonight.

I kept staring at the phone, sending telepathic waves so that it would finally ring. Nothing. It stayed as dead as roadkill. When were they going to call?

I slowly started dozing off in my chair. The wait was killing me. Suddenly, I heard a noise coming from behind the wall. It was a long buzzing sound, much like somebody drilling. I didn’t pay any attention to it until I noticed that it was getting closer. I had no idea the next door neighbor was doing renovation work. Way to start the evening on a Saturday.

I looked at the clock. It had been over three hours now. I had to run to the bathroom, but I was afraid to miss their call. At least the drilling stopped.

I opened the drawer again to take a long glance at my new toy. Looking good. I also felt kind of proud of myself. Tonight, baby. Tonight.

I heard a loud thump. I was not really sure of what was going on right now. It seemed that the drilling had also started again.

Thump. I stood up to check this out. As I walked to the wall, I noticed some small cracks in the paint. Thump. Dust had started to form at the base of the wall. Thump. The paint cracked more. Thump. Little bits of paint scattered on the ground. Thump. The noise was getting louder. More drilling. Thump. I applied my ear against the wall. Thump. Thump. If he continued at this rate, he would go through it. Thump. Thump. Thump. Now the cracks became bigger, spreading like a cobweb. Thump.

All the noise abruptly stopped. I stepped away and slowly walked backwards to the drawer of my desk, searching for my gun, never losing sight of the wall. Pearls of sweat started forming on my forehead, and on the side of my face. The gun in my hand, I released the safety and aimed at the cracks in the paint. I was ready to shoot at anything that came out of that wall.

More sweat dripped down my temples, and my lips started reciting a prayer. I held the gun tight, trying not to shake, but my hands could not stay still. Thank God I didn’t become a surgeon. I was not here to spare lives anyway.

Thump. I could see a tiny hole receding inside the wall. Thump. It grew bigger. Thump. Thump. More bits of the wall kept falling down, and the hole widened. Thump. I could almost perceive the end of what looked like a crowbar. Thump. Yes, it was definitely a crowbar. Thump. Thump. Thump.

I was now staring at a hole about three inches wide. Silence invaded the room, and I quickly felt utterly uncomfortable. I didn’t know what to expect, so I kept aiming my gun straight at it. Whatever would come out of there was mine.

A few minutes passed, until I heard an unfamiliar noise. It was a slick slithering sound. I didn’t see anything coming out of the wall, yet that sound kept growing in my ear so loud, I had to use my left hand to cover it from this infernal ruckus. I was still holding the gun with my right hand. I would not stand very long if this noise did not stop immediately.

My right ear hurt. I thought it almost popped. Maybe it had. I was sweating profusely. I could not look away from the hole. The pain in my right ear grew considerably; I covered it with my left hand and let my left ear free. I could not drop the gun.

My hand was soon covered in sweat from my head, and I wiped it against my shirt. That was when I realized for the first time I was bleeding. I touched the area around my ears and drew blood on my fingers.

I felt scared, but the pain didn’t stop. The sound became so loud, I had to fall down on my knees. Out of desperation, I covered both my ears with my hands, and I waited. I was still looking at the hole, but nothing moved out of it.

Tears rolled down my face and I hoped for the worst to happen just to make the pain disappear.

“What do you want?” I screamed.

The hole remained motionless. I couldn’t focus anymore. As I looked up one last time, I felt a gentle breeze blow down my neck, and I shivered. Then I closed my eyes, and prayed.

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