The Final Showdown

It was the right thing to do. His gut knew it. He had been planning for this day for over 11 years now. Okay that might be an exaggeration. He had been 'consciously' planning for this for over 4 years now. However it'd only been over a year since he had actually taken it into account.

Weighing the pros and cons in this situation was about the first thing he considered in this scenario. Although the cons outweighed the pros to a considerable height, once he added mental peace into the frame, they more than balanced out.

What are the alternatives anyway? That he would tell his parents that he was molested at an age of 6 by his babysitter/aunty? Heck, it was so long ago that even he did not remember how it happened, except that it happened. Ask for support from his good-for-nothing friends who, he knew for sure, would somehow find a reason to laugh at him than save him from himself? Nah, pass. He could confront his molestor again. But last time he did that, which was over a year ago, she said something very valid: why would anyone believe a 16 year old adolescent boy who is constantly looking for attention and validation on every platform imaginable on any crap he utters. That hit him hard. It was the first time he realised that he was completely on his own on this one. And if he wanted justice he had to go and get it himself.

This was how it all began. The beginning of his shooting classes. His parents were overjoyed the day he voiced his interest in this field. Not because their son was finally showing some interest on something, but because their Son (who wouldn't hurt a fly till then) was finally showing signs of 'manliness'. He wanted to laugh at their faces. He wasn't the violent kind, never had been. But nothing till date had made more sense to him than this. Of course, he tried to remind himself that he was only a 17 year old boy and there were far too many flaws in his plan that he could not possibly imagine but he was too far gone to come back from this.

He had worked it all out. It was going to be on Diwali night. He had already arranged for an illegal weapon from this guy who knew another guy from his shooting class. It was easier than he thought. Turns out, animal hunting is way more common than is led on on mainstream media. Anyway he only needed an excuse and this was as good as any. And the woman was from the same neighbourhood so getting her in the vicinity wasn't a problem either.

He did not need to dispose the body. He just needed to not be a suspect in the first place. For that, he had enough knowledge from tonnes of crime shows that have taught him enough on how to keep your fingerprints off of things. Plus it was Diwali, nobody was going to be sober and there went his alibi. And if all hell broke lose, he was still 4 months short of 18! So anything he does would anyway be brushed under juvenile delinquency.

He really had worked it all out. At least as much as a 17 year old is expected to.

19th October. That was the day. There were still 5 more days left. He had done it in his head almost a hundred times by now. Each time with a different result.

• get caught & jailed ✔
• get caught with inconclusive results ✔
• get caught but is celebrated by the country ✔
• get caught and despised by the country ✔
• get caught and hanged ✔
• doesn't get caught and carries on with normal life.....❗
• and so on..

And then something started almost like some premonition.

First, the #metoo posts. And with it came some incredible stories. It couldn't be. He knew it. After 6 years of being on social media this one time he plans to act on something, people suddenly start opening up and accepting each other? No.
Second, the cracker ban. Now he was from Kolkata so the cracker ban should not technically affect his plans. But the crackers are an integral part of his plan, so it better not fuck up! Next year, environment will be his priority, not today!

Also, he was not so special that god would send him messages after all these years! No. He had gone over this far too many times to back out now.

It was the right thing to do. And his gut knew it, he reminded himself.

And finally the day had arrived. He wished the weather was better than it was, but it was too late to complain now. He had everything he needed inside his pyjama pockets. He contemplated on some liquid luck for himself, but decided against it. The scenes were set, the downpour had resided and the crackers started to see the light of day like never before. The whole neighbourhood had gathered on their community terrace, sloshed and barely on their two feet. He, inside the now-crippled woman's bedroom with his hand in his pocket. All waiting for their final showdown.

There were only two directions this shot could go now.

*bang*

...Cont. to Part II