It was like slow motion. His body hit the floor, my arm stayed straight, and I couldn’t take my eyes from his face.

The place were the bullet went through was gushing blood.

And though my ears were ringing from the gunshot, I knew the place was in an uproar. They were cheering for me. They were applauding me. They couldn’t stop.

Despite how my eyes were locked on the newly made corpse, I felt everyone crowding around me. Their pats on my back seemed distant. Muffled. Faint.

I just killed a man, and they were cheering.

I just took another person’s life, and they were cheering.

He hadn’t been that far away from me, and I had thought he was reaching for someone as a body shield, so I took a liberty. I made the choice to shoot him.

I had just raised the gun, pointed it, and pulled the trigger.

Such a simple action with such grave consequences.

And they were cheering.