The biggest and the final mistake of his life was trusting someone again.

A 28-year-old man came out of an underconstruction building stumbling. His hair was messed up and he was covered with blood and dripped in sweat.

He tried to run as fast as his legs could manage. Trying to take in every bit of oxygen, and just as he thought he was going to get away, he was shot once again on the back of his head. He fell, his face covered with blood.

A single tear dropped from his eyes as he saw the person who killed him taking off the mask. He tried to speak but failed miserably.

A part of him summarized his whole life: "Try, trying, and tried." Will it be his last thought?

A few minutes passed by, the murderer was gone, and the place was filled with the sounds of police cars and ambulances. With all the force left in his body, he turned his head; nobody was by his side except the police and doctors. "No one crying," he noticed.

He was being taken to the operation theater; his hand tightened the grip around the phone, but the force wasn't enough, and he let it go. The phone fell down, and a girl covered with a mask picked it up.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

His heartbeat was almost dead. "Ready, charge," said the doctor, hoping he would be alive again. "One more time," the senior doctor looked around the room; victim's heartbeat was now zero. He was no more.

One, two, three, and just like that, his life ended. Seven minutes of peace, and then he was gone. Why? He would have thought.

The doctor came out of the operation theater. Police officers stood there waiting for a response. But the doctor couldn't manage to say a word; he lowered his head and left. Two police officers were standing side by side, both leaning on the wall, arms crossed. "It is surely a murder case," junior officer Ryan commented. He wore big round glasses and had brown hair.

"How did you figure out that it was murder?" another officer, Daniel, spoke in a low tone with a hint of sarcasm. The junior just blinked at him... twice. "What a dumbo," Daniel thought.

He had been paired up with Ryan three months ago, and since then, he hated it.

"Did he survive?" a crystal-clear voice came from a distance. The intensity of the words was intense. The officer in charge walked in; he had a bold personality. His walk gave the expression of control. He smelled like the trees in the forest.

Ryan, the junior officer, fixed his glasses and spoke, "Sir, the doctor told us nothing, and no one came to look for him." Aiden looked at Daniel; his eyes fixed on Daniel's. "Sir..." Daniel spoke, "He did not make it. I found his phone and wallet in his pockets."

Aiden took the phone and wallet and went towards his dead body. Meanwhile, Ryan looked at Daniel and asked, "Sir, what did that man not make?" Daniel was confused; with confusion in his tone, he asked, "Come again?"

"You said the man did not make it.. Didn't make what?"

"He died... Stupid!" his voice raw.

Sadness emerged on his face... with the hint of guilt and regret. "It's not your fault we couldn't reach on time," Daniel commented, trying to make the new bee feel confident.

"Really?" Ryan asked hopelessly.

Daniel nodded.