As the rain water started to drip down the brim of the peak of his cap, his arms began to stiffen from holding his upper body weight from the ground, so he tried to loosen his muscles with some small stretches. He could feel the dampness seeping through his shirt. His body started to shiver because of the coldness and he wished badly that he could light up a cigarette anytime soon. Under the shrubs, he fixed his sight at the abandoned house. As he was fixing his gaze through the scope he saw a movement. A car was passing through the lonely road, heading towards the bungalow. He lifted the rifle once again and sighted down to the front of the house. It was an old house.
There were vines hanging from the rooftop down along the wall. The house was surrounded by old and mouldy wooden fence and beyond the fences was a garden. The garden was infested with wild, thorny weed grass. There was a stone path leading towards the main door. The windows around the house looked grubby and some of them were even broken. A sudden lightning ripped through the dark clouds. Wet puddles filled the holes along the road. The car continued its journey and he lowered his guard.
He was lying down under the tree, a big and shady willow at the hillside. He had been there for hours watching over the small cottage houses down below. It has been drizzling since morning and the floor was damp. He hated the weather. It was cold and his clothes were wet but it has stopped raining, at least. He fixed his sight at the small abandoned house.
The calmness of the hillside was suddenly broken by the sound of engine. With his sensitive ears, he knew it was the target, heading down the road towards the house. He chewed his gum and lifted the rifle. Once again, he sighted down to the front of the house.
The blue car turned off the road onto the muddy, rutted path leading to the house. A man was driving the car. It was an old Nissan with a damaged bumper. He noticed that the windscreen wiper was defective too. The man stopped his car at the front of the gate. He stepped out onto a puddle of water as he came out of his car. Cursing under his breath, he leaned on his car and lit a cigarette. He was waiting for someone.
It started to drizzle again. The man walked briskly into the shelter of the front porch. He sat on the bench and watched the rain. He felt a chill as the wind blew. He got up again and lit another cigarette. This time, the assassin lifted up his rifle and aimed quietly at him. The sound of gunshot echoed through the quiet drizzle.
The assassin packed his things and picked up the cartridge case lying on the wet ground. He hiked down to his car and disappeared.
The front porch lay silent as it continued to drizzle.
-Pua Yu Min
There were vines hanging from the rooftop down along the wall. The house was surrounded by old and mouldy wooden fence and beyond the fences was a garden. The garden was infested with wild, thorny weed grass. There was a stone path leading towards the main door. The windows around the house looked grubby and some of them were even broken. A sudden lightning ripped through the dark clouds. Wet puddles filled the holes along the road. The car continued its journey and he lowered his guard.
He was lying down under the tree, a big and shady willow at the hillside. He had been there for hours watching over the small cottage houses down below. It has been drizzling since morning and the floor was damp. He hated the weather. It was cold and his clothes were wet but it has stopped raining, at least. He fixed his sight at the small abandoned house.
The calmness of the hillside was suddenly broken by the sound of engine. With his sensitive ears, he knew it was the target, heading down the road towards the house. He chewed his gum and lifted the rifle. Once again, he sighted down to the front of the house.
The blue car turned off the road onto the muddy, rutted path leading to the house. A man was driving the car. It was an old Nissan with a damaged bumper. He noticed that the windscreen wiper was defective too. The man stopped his car at the front of the gate. He stepped out onto a puddle of water as he came out of his car. Cursing under his breath, he leaned on his car and lit a cigarette. He was waiting for someone.
It started to drizzle again. The man walked briskly into the shelter of the front porch. He sat on the bench and watched the rain. He felt a chill as the wind blew. He got up again and lit another cigarette. This time, the assassin lifted up his rifle and aimed quietly at him. The sound of gunshot echoed through the quiet drizzle.
The assassin packed his things and picked up the cartridge case lying on the wet ground. He hiked down to his car and disappeared.
The front porch lay silent as it continued to drizzle.
-Pua Yu Min
SMK Damansara Jaya,
Age 16, 2008
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