Lisa held the steering wheel tight, praying for the mysery to end. Her car charged through another red signal. She squeeled as she barely escaped from hitting a motorbike on the way. Her heart was pacing and yet, she couldn’t ease on the accelerator. If ever there was a day to put life on the line, it was this. Her hopes were hanging by a thread. Drops of sweat trickled down the back of her neck. She couldn’t believe it was happening again. Not this time. Not after all that she has been through. She checked her purse for the gun. It was loaded. Ready.

She slammed the door of the car and stepped out. A rusty old car stood outside his house. It had aged badly just like its owner. Every day Lisa would see this car and think of lighting it up. This man had taken away the sleep of several girls like her. He deserved the worst. She hurried to the door with the intention of ringing the bell until he comes out. But the door was already open. Very convenient, she thought. Barging into the living room she yelled- Come on out. Enough is enough.

A weak old man wearing glasses and pajamas stepped out of the bedroom. The kitchen sink had a single dinner plate. There was noone in the house but him. The smell of cigarettes filled the room. There were certificates and medals decorated on the wall behind him. Lisa could not believe that someone with so many accomplishments was incapable of being a decent human being. She pointed the gun at him and said – This was the last time you gave someone an F. Time for your last words.

Professor looked at her in utter shock. An F? You are pointing a gun at me because of an F?

To you it is just an F. To me, it is my dignity. I was looking at my shampoo yesterday and wondering whether it will kill me if I drink it. But why should I drink poison? I am not weak. I did everything I could. This is my third year in the same class in the same college. My father said he would cut me off his will if I see a failure this time. My life is over. And to you it is just an F. I brought my father’s gun to end you. It is fitting, dont you think? I lose my father. You lose your life.

Hold on. Sit down, have some water, Mona. – Professor bargained.

Lisa. Call me Lisa. I don’t like to be called Mona or Monalisa. I am not your muse.

Of course, Lisa. Don’t take this failure as the end of everything. Tell me what is hurting you. Give me a chance to listen to you.

I am not falling for this. You are dead to me.

Her eyes had turned red and tears were pouring out at this point. With shaky hands and grinding teeth she moved closer.

You deserve this. You deserve to die.

The gun was fired. Professor was on the ground. Lisa hurried to keep the gun back into her purse. She could not decide whether to check on him or run away. She stood frozen for a minute. Hand still inside the purse. And then she cried. very loud. She was expecting relief but she felt pain. Pain and a surge of guilt. Then slowly she started stepping back. Walking backwards she headed to her car. As she opened the car door, she asked herself. What did I just do? Was this necessary? Who saw me coming here? Should I throw the gun? Why was I so reckless?

Lisa hit the gas pedal hard. It was getting dark now. She had no clue where she was going. She just drove straight on to the highway. Two hours later when she stopped at a petrol pump to refuel, she saw herself in the rear view mirror. Mascara spread across the face and hands still shivering. Her stomach was growling. She thought, she should go home for dinner and forget all this.

As she stepped back into her house, she found her dad awaiting her at the door. Where the hell were you? Wasn’t it the day of your exam results today? What happened to it? What happened to the results? Lisa walked right past him and dropping the purse to the floor replied – The results? I did not fail this time, Papa.