How much for your life?

How do you quantify the value of someone’s life? We apply our own ideas of what makes something valuable to objects all the time. If you ask a stranger on the street what they would be willing to pay for a candy bar, what would they say? One dollar, maybe five it it’s some kind of fancy, gourmet stuff. Now ask that same person, how much for the life of someone you love? They would do what any sensible person would do right? They’d gasp or act appalled at the very idea! But everything has a value, a number based on the demand we have for it. So, I ask again…

“How much for your life?”

Maybe he didn’t hear me, the rain is coming down so hard outside it’s nearly deafening. The sound of rushing water grows louder, but it doesn’t cover the sounds of a man on his knees pleading for his life.

“What are you talking about?! I don’t know what you mean!” He says through a stream of tears and a runny nose.

I guess he did hear me. I take a few steps towards him, while keeping my revolver trained on his sweat covered forehead.

The water streaks down the floor-to-ceiling windows of an old, musty office. The ostentatious décor relay to anyone who comes in here, that the owner is better than you.

“I asked, how much for your life?”

I keep my cold and motionless eyes locked with his tear-filled twitchy ones.

“Because let me tell you how much it’s worth to the people around you.”

I pull a chair in front of his desk around and take a seat.

“First your nanny, who you barely pay a livable wage after so many years of raising your children for you. Whose family you threatened to have deported if she spurns your disgusting advances. I offered her five-thousand dollars for the key to your home.”

He blocks his face with his hands in a vain attempt to shield himself from the guns barrel.

“Next, we have your loyal driver. He drove you wherever you needed to go, never divulging to anyone what you were up to. Like your trysts with so many women behind your wife’s back. Of course, it’s easy to secure someone’s loyalty when you threaten their family isn’t it? For your daily routines and schedule, I offered ten thousand dollars.”

A look of pained confusion came over his face as his hands lowered slightly.

“What are you getting at?” he asked, now more confused and frustrated then afraid.

“And finally, that brings us to the last person who made this all possible. Your lovely wife”

His eyes grew wide and his face reddened. He straightened up like he was going to lung at me, so I fired a warning shot into the wall.

“What are you doing!? My wife—”

“Your wife and children aren’t here.”

The rage on his face subsided and returned to confusion.

“Your wife is the one who actually approached me. I didn’t trust her at first, naturally. But after some time, I could see it in her eyes. She was exhausted, and she was scared. And I could give her the one thing she needed to escape the prison she was in, plausible deniability.”

I gave him a moment to let it sink in.

“You want to hear the sad part though? When I offered them money, no one accepted. That is the value of your life to those around you, zero dollars.”

I quickly stood up and knocked my chair over.

“But there was someone who I valued more than money. More than anything you, or anyone on this earth has to offer.”

I grabbed him by the collar and shoved the barrel into his neck.

“My husband, who worked tirelessly as your accountant for years. Who sacrificed weekends, holidays, anniversaries. Who missed out on birthdays, first steps, recitals. And all this time I hated him for putting his work before his family. All the way up until his death I resented him, until I found out the truth. Why he worked himself to death, why he gave up so much for the sake of his job.”

My hands began to shake with anger as my grip tightened around the gun.

“Because all this time, you pinned all of your illicit dealings on him! You were going to frame him for everything you did to get where you are! And if he didn’t do what you said, you threatened to go after us! His family! He was nothing more to you than a patsy!”

I shoved him with so much force his head made a crack in the wall.

“But he wasn’t a fool like you thought he was. He kept a record of everything illegal you made him do, knowing full well that one day he could use it to take you down. And he kept it all here.”

I retrieved a little black notebook from my jacket pocket and shook it furiously in his face.

“Then we came after you because we thought we had the law and the truth on our side! But you didn’t face justice, you were able to settle out of court! You kill my husband and all you gave me was twenty thousand damn dollars!?”

“What do you want?!” He screams. “More money, right?! Is that what you’re getting at?!”

The rage inside me subsides, the empty hole in my chest begins to swell as sadness returns. I inhale deeply, let out an exhausted sigh, and lower the gun.

“Don’t you understand?” I asked him. “Our value is determined by the demand of others.”

“To me, your nanny, your driver, and even your wife.”

I put the barrel to his forehead.

“You’re worthless.”