Wow kept going through my dumbfounded head. What a revelation that Connor was a killer for hire. He’s been deceiving me for five years! Although I thought ironically, I’d been doing the same working for the American government. We were both keeping secrets and proved to be excellent liars.
Thankfully, the administration found out through back channels about the details of the assassination attempt. That’s how they knew I would be coming home. They sure worked efficiently to get me all the details.
It’s a pity I would have to kill him, actually sad, I thought to myself. I’ve never had to end a relationship too, but the Republic comes first, always has. Thankfully, I have a private jet at my disposal, which would get me to Washington a lot quicker than Connor. That gave me such an advantage.
As soon as I arrived at the White House, I was escorted in by the Secret Service to discuss how we would execute this mission once Connor was spotted. I had the element of surprise as he didn’t know I was there to kill him. Good, he will be caught off guard. That should make my job easier. Plus, I would be wearing a bit of a disguise, so he wouldn’t immediately recognize me.
The security checks revealed that he’d gotten himself on the kitchen staff roster. Our best guess is he would attempt the assassination using some type of poison, but we’d need to be ready for other methods. Everything seemed prepared for the state dinner, and all felt satisfied things would be handled well without too much commotion tomorrow.
Checking into the hotel, it was time for some rest before the action the next day. But that seemed unlikely, in my mind, considering my target. I’d never had to kill someone I loved before.
I awoke the next morning, realizing that I’d slept better than I thought I would. Hmmm, maybe killing people I loved would be easy? We’ll soon find out. I headed to the White House.
As soon as Connor arrived, the Secret Service messaged everyone. We were on high alert. Everyone took their places and gave him a bit of leeway to reveal how this assassination attempt would occur. One of the agents, also disguised as kitchen staff, followed him around, keeping his eyes targeted on him as much as possible. He continued to give us feedback about his actions but nothing suspicious yet.
“Why am I not surprised you are trying to stop me?” this familiar voice behind me whispered in my ear.
“Connor!” I said, shocked. I turned around and saw he was in disguise. Secret Service wouldn’t have known it was him, but I did. Trump never looked so good.
“Your team is tailing my doppelganger,” he said, “just like I wanted them to.” Damn it. We hadn’t anticipated this scenario during our strategy session.
“Hey, good news. At least there won’t ever be any more interruptions to our vacation, just like I promised. Oh, and by the way Liebchen, Germany will be running this country now.”
“Deutschland Über alles!” Connor said forcefully as he drove the 8″ butcher knife right through my heart.
Each morning, out of the corner of my left eye, the box steals my attention, just for a moment. I glance back to the woman in the mirror and begin the ritual called the start of my day. Shades of red, dabs of matte, outlines of eyes, a misting of the gold locks complete the routine of being presentable.
I rise naked to determine my wardrobe next. The box is again to the left, at my feet. About three feet of space that holds my youthful indiscretions, mostly joys but some admonitions. All my sentimental worthlessness squirreled away, hidden from the world, backed into the closet.
This box, my legacy of intimacies and sheltered private moments, up until my very end, will absorb more recordings of my life. I’ve said it’s my world to escape to when all I’ve got is seclusion and disease, propelling me towards the next phase of this journey. At my end, wanting to recapture the feels by dallying in the dull personal but nostalgic days of my existence. I want to revel one last time in my past, then let it all burn.
My dear friend balked when I told him my plan. He said the world should know of the events which shaped the woman the rest of the world sees. But it’s private, I said. Of course, he nodded, but it’s all the special in you. It’s the why of how you came to be. It’s the treasures kept hidden that deserve to live beyond your death.
I’ve decided to strike a deal with that dear friend. I will stick to my plan of charring all of what remains of my past should he die before me. But if I leave this planet and he’s alive, it’s my parting gift to him. May it bring him some joy to get to know the different stages of the girl I was before our paths crossed and intertwined. I’ll bet he’ll giggle, then cry.
memories are a bitch
mourned long ago
my friend, you are missed
I was in my early 20s when I lost my good friend, Jerry Angeline, in a vehicle accident. His death impacted me deeply. This was our song and what triggered a flood of memories recently. It still hurts.