A Sick Robber

No, no, no, I killed her! That wasn’t supposed to happen. 

The gun was in my hand. About 10 meters ahead. a beautiful girl, my girl, my comrade in arms, was lying and dying on the floor. A puddle of blood was pooling next to her. Beside her lay a dead, and very much stupid security officer and his double barrel shotgun. He is dead, or dying. 

It’s his fault. It’s his god damn his fault, I thought, Fool thought he could try to take me down. Ekta, why did she had to jump in the way. I don’t understand. 

“You! You this is your fault” I pointed the gun at the bank manager hugging the ground; he had a surprised look on his face. 

“Get up. UP!” The barrel of the pistol presses against his neck and slowly, he stands up. 

“You killed her! You killed her! Yo-”. 

The bank manager tried to cut in, “No, it’s not my f-”

BANG.

“No one ever wants to take responsibility”, I muttered to myself. The bank manager slid to the floor. 

“Now, no one better not try anything”. I scanned the customers and bank employees all hugging the ground. They wouldn’t try anything as long as I had the gun in my hand. I bent down and searched through the bank manager’s pockets. The keys have got to be in here somewhere. In the background, there is phone ringing. Probably the cops wanting to negotiate. Ah, here it is, my fingers loop over a ring and out from the pocket comes the bank manager’s key. 

The damn phone is still ringing. I stand up and pull the trigger. The plastic phone on the counter explodes into pieces. Not all the civilians are on the ground, some of them are standing at the windows - just in case a dumb sniper think he can shoot me. Then, I look towards the bank’s entrance. Etka, my girl, is lying there. I feel a yearning. 

“You”, I point to civilian on the ground, “go to the entrance and pull that woman here”. He looks at Ekta, then at me. He makes the right choice by going over there at tugging her body. I couldn’t do it. The glass windows of the bank would give the cops a perfect opportunity to shoot me.  

“Mr. Udey, we just want to talk”, a loud speaker voice came from outside. 

Ekta was in front of me. She was not moving, she was dead. I didn’t mean for this to happen, I just wanted the money.  “Get out of here”, I yelled blindly, “You have an hour to get out of here, or I’ll start killing people.” 

I crouch down and hugged her. Etka’s body was already cold. The life had gone out of her eyes. Of
course, she didn’t know I was going to rob the bank that she worked in. It didn’t matter. I kissed her lips and prayed she felt that in the afterlife. 

The money from the bank teller counters was already in the bag. 

“We can’t do that Mr. Udey. Just talk to us, we can work something out”, the police loudspeaker came from outside. 

“You” I point to another civilian, “Go and stand at the entrance”. Of course she does without hesitation, she hopes that she’ll be able to walk out of here. Once she’s standing in front of the door, I pull the trigger. She falls down and I, we all in the bank can hear her last dying breath. 

I go to the safe behind, open it with the key and remove the rest of the money. The bag feels heavy. 

Now, I just have to wait. 

“Mr. Udey, we can still save that woman. If she dies, that’s another death on your hands.” 

I did not reply. The art to such negotiate was to use the power of silence. It took another demonstration, another dead body. They were forcing my hand. Then the police moved out. All their cars, barricades, snipers on the roof, all of them disappeared. That was my cue. All I had to do was walk out of here. I took a last look at Ekta. Of course, she didn’t expect me to do this. I want to show her just how far I was willing to go. Oh well, things don’t always work out. 

I walk out of the bank. 

ZIP.

What was I thinking. Of course, the police wouldn’t clear. There’s a hole in my chest. I fall to the ground. The blood is leaking from my chest just like all those people I killed. Blaring sirens in the distance. Then, darkness.