Necessary

It was necessary. He stepped away from her. But the voice kept coming at him, through layers of nitrocellulose, saying 'How do you feel now?'. He felt terrible. His eyes were bloodshot after fifteen hours of no sleep. It was so tempting, walk away, forget the whole thing. But it was necessary. Not only for himself, but for all of them. She was too dangerous. He knew it the moment he heard the news. It was unreal, and for a moment he managed to find it in his heart to give her some credit, something he hadn't been able to do for years. But then he saw the papers, and the TV, and the court order, and closed his eyes.

Closed his eyes and pointed.

The revolver.

Straight ahead.

At the TV.

"DAMN YOU EKTA KAPOOR", he shouted, and fired.

But something there was made of stone and the bullet richotted off it and lodged in his chest. That surprised him. He was so surprised that he forgot entirely whether his heart was on the left or right side. As the inept Noida police made their entry, he died, uttering the famous last words that would fire a generation, 'Damn you Ekta Kapoor...'