Memories In Heart

Memories In Heart (2): The Three Muskteers

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is her beat up chevy

Amy’s POV:

Beep...Beep…

I hopped off the counter and ran to the island, silently praying it’s the text I’m waiting for. I was really in need for the money these days to buy a new car. My father also needs his medication. I reached the phone as the screen went off again signaling that there was a new message. I opened it and quickly scanned through it. I mentally fist pumped the air. At least I’m getting some money.

Even though I’m not happy about what I’m doing, I have my own reasons.

I froze up remembering the target, Smith. Where have I heard this name before? I knew it but couldn’t grab a hold of where I did.

I shrugged it off and started the way to my room.

This was a simple one.

Someone who doesn’t resemble a thing would be killed so we have a crime for the CIA target to solve and while he’s at the scene BAM!!

Well, my job is to kill the CIA agent so the scenario before I’m not responsible for. I picked up some sweats and a random polo; you don’t need to dress up for killing someone you know. I put on my sneakers and went to my weapons closet.

I know, weird but if I have a lot of them then what should I do?

I picked up the perfect one for this job and put it in a large suitcase then made my way to my father’s room before I went out.

He never knows what I do and he doesn’t need to know. I kissed his cheek while he was asleep and then made my way downstairs to the counter. I wrote a note to my brother notifying him that I’m going out. Putting down the pen, I went over to my beat up Chevrolet.

Roaring the engine to life, I started my way to the location, lost in my thoughts.

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As I reached the hotel I gave my keys to the valet. With my suitcase, I went to the front desk to get the room keys.

“Excuse me, there’s a reservation in the name of Amy Wilson,” I told the receptionist politely.

She typed something on her computer then looked up to me with a fake smile plastered on her face, “yes indeed, give me one second and I’ll come back with your keys.”

And literally it took her 10 seconds or something. Damn!

She gave me the keys and I made my way to the room. After the door was opened, I couldn’t help but gasp.

It was amazing! Too bad I’m not here on vacation. Suddenly, I felt this sharp pain in my chest. I couldn’t breathe and my sight was blurry with black spots. I couldn’t help but to fall on my knees and clutch my chest wishing with all my being for it to be over. I’ve been feeling pains like this for the last few months but never so severe.

And then it just went away as if it never came. I stood up trying to recover and made my way to the window.

My reflection welcomed me. With my large blue eyes, my night black hair that just reached above my ass and my pale skin, no one would ever think that someone like me has killed before.

I looked innocent, too innocent.

The view was perfect. Was all I could think.

A perfect shot.

I looked over at the clock. Shit! I’m running late.

I set up my gun quickly, prepared for my target to come at any time. I don’t know why but I had this strange feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I’ll be regretting this.

I always felt this way before any of my missions and I just put it away with ‘I have my own reasons.’ But this time was stronger, maybe it’s because I felt like I knew him.

Whatever this feeling is, I still need to do it.

I’ll do it for my father.

I’ll do it.

Many people think of us as heartless people. Oh well, you’re wrong. Each one of us has a strong motive, so suck it up people. You don’t know us or how our lives are.

Dirty blond hair came into my view and this was it. Refocusing on my job and supporting my finger on the trigger, I waited till it was a clear shot.

Come on. Come on. Come on. Yes! And I pulled the trigger aiming for his head. I watched how his body fell limply and I couldn’t help as my insides ate me out from guilt.

It was always like that: I kill, I regret. But the feeling was so intense this time. Something inside me knew that I was going to regret it later.

Suddenly, I felt this pang in my chest just like earlier. I felt that my heart had literally stopped and I just couldn’t breathe. My sight blurred with black spots from the lack of oxygen. I grabbed the shelf next to me for support, but I couldn’t help but fall to my knees, clutching my chest again from the pain.

If I wasn’t about to die from the lack of oxygen, I was about to from the pain.

I deserved such a death for everyone I killed. Their images came haunting me and just like they say, I saw my whole life pass in front of my eyes like a movie film.

Just like how it came, the pain went.

What if next time it didn’t go?

I sighed, glad that I could breathe now. But I deserve a painful death like that.

Then it all came back to me. How could I forget, Ryan Smith?!

We both went to the same grade school. Even though they were rich; he and his twin went to a public school, he even befriended me. The only difference between them was that Ryan’s eyes were an ocean blue color while Adam has his mother’s deep green like emerald ones. Ryan, Adam, his twin, and I were like the three musketeers. We did everything together. We were best friends from grade school until middle school where we just drifted apart. They became busy with their friends and so did I but everyone thinks that the reason is that I was the poor nerd while they were the rich, popular, smart ass, jocks. This was never true.  They never judged my family or I because of our money. His family is also our current next-door neighbor.

They are too kind hearted to think about people or treat them differently.  

Correction: he was.

I’ve always wanted to make up things with him and his brother and just return back to the old times. But now I’ll never see his beautiful blue eyes again or his charming smile. Even though I haven’t for years, knowing that I would never again pained me like hell and knowing that I’m the reason, made me want to die.

I ended his life.

I would never be able to look in his mother’s eyes. She always loved me as a second daughter even when I stopped befriending her sons. She welcomed me to her house whenever I needed to talk about anything.

Her deep green eyes were always soft and kind. She never showed hatred to anyone but she would if she knew what I did. Just seeing the pain and disappointment on her face directed to me would kill me inside out. She was a second mother to me. Heck, the last time I saw my real mother was when I was five.

Mrs. Smith was my mother.

And now I killed her son.

 [A/N] Hope you liked it. 

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