I see the gun at his head, prepared to do the most vicious. I see the fingers holding the killing machine, shaking. They’re mine. One little bit of pressure and that man’s life will be over in 5 seconds. Just like my family, the only people that ever cared about me. A small tear falls down my face and I pretend not to notice. I need to stay strong. I need to prove that I'm not weak. I need to kill this man so I can finally be accepted into society. It's only one life. He means nothing to me. I can just close my eyes and squeeze my fingers together. No. I have to watch. I have to watch myself show the world that I am a true man. Hiding like a scared mouse won't do that. I must watch as the bullet spirals into his brain. I must watch as blood pours out of his head. I must watch as he tumbles to the ground, lifeless. I must not turn away. I must be proud of what I've done. I must because then I will never be shunned for not being normal again. I will know that I have the guts to reach the standard. And if I can't, I will be shamed, humiliated. I will be the one guy that doesn't fit in. The in-between. But that doesn't matter. Because this man is innocent. He has a family. He has friends. He has people that love him and who will avenge his death. I do not. So I take his place and finally work up the courage to pull the trigger.