The bullet entered his skull about an inch to the left of the small cross he had drawn on his forehead.
As the blood began to spurt in a crimson flood and his body mercifully slumped to the floor, I marveled at the bizarre machinations of the human mind. For I didn't feel relief that I had stopped him, not anger, nor a sense of victory. Rather, I almost wanted to laugh at how ironic my neighbour's demise was.
Let me explain.
The dispute had started over a branch. It jutted out from his tree, located on his property, and over into my back yard, causing much mess and sun-blocking shadows. The first complaint was made three years ago and the dispute had grown more heated and more personal with each passing month. It had finally culminated in litigation, which took place only last week, when the Magistrate had concluded that my neighbour was solely responsible for cutting down the offending branch and also, to my delight, had ordered him to pay all my legal costs into the bargain! Considering all of this, you can imagine my surprise when I received an invitation by the same neighbour to come and partake in tea and biscuits this afternoon at his house. I have no idea why, what weird haze had usurped my common sense, but I found myself accepting his gracious offer!
"This is my wife" he said while showing me photograph and handing me a cup of tea simultaneously "Well, my ex-wife! She left me six months ago. Believe it or not it was because I was so obsessed with fighting you about this bloody branch!"
"Oh!" I replied sheepishly, unable to come up with a better response.
"And this..." he continued, pointing to another photograph, this time framed and on the wall, "...is my yacht Dragonfly! It's a 20 foot Clipper Ketch. I always dreamt of owning a boat like this, but could only afford to buy one about ten years ago, after a lifetime of saving. It's my pride and joy!"
"Its...lovely" I said awkwardly.
"I've just put it on the market! If I am going to have to pay for all your legal costs, I have to sell Dragonfly! There is just no other way!"
"Oh...I...see" I replied with the same articulate precision of my earlier answers.
"And this..." he said while reaching into a drawer of a beautiful old desk "...this is my gun!"
As soon as the word gun fell out of his lips I became petrified, literally, frozen to the spot as if I had taken root.
"And this..." he continued while taking a pen and drawing a shaky cross on his forehead "...is where I am going to shoot myself! And you, dear neighbour, are going to watch!"
"What? Look...please..." I stammered.
"SHUT UP! You have done enough talking! You have had your say! You have taken my wife, my boat, my everything! The only thing I have left, you see, is my life. Ah but you are not going to take that! Oh no, I will not let you win again! I, and only I, am in control now. Only I can take my life. Not you! And to prove it, you are going to sit there, and watch, watch the blood, watch the flesh tear, watch the life leave my eyes and you can do nothing, NOTHING, to stop it. I win, you see, in the end, I win!"
Now, what would you do in this situation? I would be lying if I said that I thought through my actions because thought had taken a cruise in the south pacific and terror and adrenalin had taken its place for the time being. Instead of thought, I moved by instinct, I think, at least that is what I am going to blame for now.
Before he said another word, I jumped out of my chair and slapped his hand in an upward motion, causing the gun to fly across the room and land on the linoleum of the kitchen floor.
We looked at each other for a brief second before running for the weapon. I was younger and fitter and reached it well before him, only to be bowled over in a rugby tackle by a now incredibly angry neighbour.
"Give me the gun you bitch!" he yelled while struggling to prise it from my grip.
"I...I'm not going to let you do this!" I said as I struggled. As independent and strong a woman as I am, I knew he was stronger, and that it was just a matter of time before he overpowered me.
"GIVE ME THE GUN! YOU HAVE NO SAY IN THIS! YOU ARE NOT IN CONTROL ANYMORE! I'M IN CHARGE!" he shouted while still struggling.
"No! I won't let you kill yourself!"
"GIVE ME THE GUN OR I'LL...."
"YOU'LL WHAT?" I finally screamed in anger "I'VE GOT THE GUN EINSTEIN!"
That was when he stopped struggling. He took on a strange expression and stood up. A sick perverted smirk spread across his face and he slowly, but unmistakably, started to unbutton his trousers.
"What...what are you doing?" I said as I stood and backed myself into an inescapable corner against some cupboards.
"Oh I am going to enjoy this" he said as his pants fell to the floor.
"GET AWAY FROM ME!" I screamed in desperation.
"Oh yes! You are mine now! I am finally in control aren't I? I am going to call the shots! You see, I told you I would win in the end. Oh yes!" he growled as he reached out for my breast.
The bullet entered his skull about an inch to the left of the small cross he had drawn on his forehead.
As the blood began to spurt in a purple flood and his body mercifully slumped to the floor, I marveled at the bizarre machinations of the human mind. For I didn't feel relief that I had stopped him, not anger, nor a sense of victory. Rather, I almost wanted to laugh at how ironic my neighbour's demise was.
I win, dear neighbour, I win!