On the way to dinner, the assassin calls out my name. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the shady character approach. The warning bells go off. How had she found me despite my efforts to hide under a disguised facebook picuture? I break out into a sprint, pushing past several pedestrians. The assassin shoots, but is thwarted as I duck into a corner. I quickly make my way to the quad, eager to find multiple human shields. Breathless, I find myself in the center, with students passing to my right and left, but no threatening figures present. I’m safe, I quietly breathe to myself in relief. Then I see her. She advances unwaveringly with a look of malice in eyes so intense my blood turns to ice. I turn and run, though I know all hope is now lost. My foot becomes caught in a wayward backpack and I crash to the ground, my only weapon of defense thrown inches past my fingertips. I look to see the silhouette of my murderer before me. It’s over. I make a move for my spoon, but she quickly crushes it under her foot. “Your time has come,” she says, finally raising hear pistol, and fires.

Naw, actually she just found me in a stairwell and shot me in the chest.