Today was the day. I had never killed a man before and to me, it was not something that seemed too much of a challenge. I've heard stories from the other mafioso, saying that watching a man die from your gun can be something hard to cope with, but I didn't believe them. The hit was put on some low life thug that thought it was a good idea to beat the hell out of some kids. I mean, who does that kind of shit. To me, his actions were only making it easier to bring myself to kill him. My boss gave me a tip that he liked hanging out at some hole in the wall diner down in the projects. Easy enough place to kill him and make a quick getaway before the cops showed; that is, if they ever care to show up.

As I made my way towards the diner, I could not help but notice that my hands started to shake as I got closer to the diner. I didn't know what the hell was happening. Nerves started to set in and I started thinking about taking the life of another man. In words it seemed like another average day for a gangster, but it had a very dark side to it. I tried to shake the feelings as I pulled up to the diner. I walked inside to a dimly lit, dirty, and overall nasty place to eat. No one seemed too interested in seating me so I made my way to a table in the back. I sat facing the door so I could see when my target walked in. He was said to be young, with a mustache and usually wearing an outdated trench coat. It damn sure seemed like he would be a scum bag.

After almost two hours of waiting I could not stand the anticipation. But my prayers were answered as a man in a trench coat with a mustache walked right through the entrance. Finally, I can do my job and leave. I waited until he sat at the bar to make my move. I got up slowly and approached the man. As I got closer my palms started to sweat, my heart rate increased rapidly, and I then knew there was no turning back. I pulled my 9mm pistol, put it to the back of his head and pulled the trigger. Blood and brains spewed across the bar top. People started erupting in screams and I turned away and began to walk towards the door. Then, I heard the word that stopped me in my tracks. I heard a young girl scream out, "Daddy!!!". I turned to see the man whose brains I just blew out being held by a small girl. My mind went blank and the biggest feeling of regret and sorrow swept through my body. I didn't know what to do. The man who beat children had one of his own.  That's when the worst possible thing ever happened. A man with a tattered trench coat and a dirty mustache came in. I screamed in agony knowing that I had just killed an innocent father, and now the man I was out to hit, ran for his life. Failure in my world meant death, and I was not about to let that happen. I sprinted after the man down the street firing wildly into the crowds. After that first kill I was too numb to feel regret anymore. People were dropping like flies from my bullets as I ran down the street. I saw my target go down an alley and decided to go around the other side to surprise him. As I ran, a trail of dead bodies and blood were left behind me. I finally caught up to the man, who still had not noticed I was creeping up behind him. I drew my gun and without hesitation, I shot the man through the chest.

As he fell to the ground gasping for air, I decided to make sure the job was finished. I walked up to him and pushed the barrel of my gun down his throat. Blood was oozing out of the side of his mouth and his eyes were filled with terror. I looked directly into those eyes and blew a hole through his head.

I went to headquarters to find an envelope with $20,000 in it for me. My boss thanked me for my work and told me to lay low. I knew that I was going to have to kill again, but that little girl had made things totally different. Life in the mob for me would never be the same.

You completed the job to your Boss's satisfaction. That is all that counts.

It is a sad fact of life that innocents suffer, particularly as you only have a rough description to go on.

Does it make any difference who is killed. A lot of gangsters have families and they do not know what Daddy does for a living. Those families are just as innocent as that little girl you saw.

My advice to you would be to lay low with a bottle of whiskey,or whatever you prefer, and destroy the memory that way. After practice I would imagine you will be able to go home to your family as if nothing untoward had happened.

I agree with John-the-Cosh. As long as you complete the mission you've done your job. That little girl's father who got popped by accident? Its a crying shame but these things happen. Im sure in the future you'll verify the ID of your target before pulling the trigger.

"The hit was put on some low life thug that thought it was a good idea to beat the hell out of some kids"

It's obvious this guy is a piece of shit.  Maybe he just needed to be taught a lesson?  But nonetheless, I can't complain with him being marked and your boss giving the greenlight.  Having said that, his crime was beating the hell out of some kids.  Yours? Killing an innocent father in front of his daughter.  You better heed your boss' advice and lay low...who knows, you may have been marked for your crime.

 I agree with you about how your perception of the mob has changed. However, you did what was asked of you by your Boss. I am sure after hearing everything that had to happen for you to carryout the hit, that he is pleased. In your position, many other gangsters would have froze up and most likely had ran. You kept in the back of your mind that you were on a mission for your Boss. You reacted far more quicker than I can say I would have and it probably would have proved detrimental to me. I say good job and with that dedication you have for your Boss, I lift my hat to you.