"When everything you love has been stolen from you, all you have left is revenge."
Isabelle
Looking back on it now, it seems unreal. Hazy and distorted, like a bad nightmare you can't be sure you had. The voices are grotesque and distorted, loud with an echoing pitch in the background. I can feel the facts in my hands but when I try to measure their solidarity or feel their angles, they melt slipping out of my hands. After a while, the lies become so familiar that you push the truth farther and farther away until you can't distinguish one from the other. When did lying become so easy, and telling the truth so hard? The happy memories blur and blend together turning into an escape that you can't be sure your mind conjured up because happiness like that doesn't feel possible. So, take the moments you can smile and cherish them because one day you'll realize there is a difference between smiling and turning your lips upward to show your teeth. I lifted my lips at Agent Collins and Matthew as they watched me inquiringly as I polished the barrel of my slightly used gun. Agent Collins demanded that all the federal agents and I take self defense classes and do some team bonding. Which I consider utterly useless, but my opinion doesn't seem to matter in this situation.
We lined up, Matthew on my left, and Agent Collins next to him. Carefully I lined myself up correctly, as I carefully cocked the gun. The instructor brought out paper targets. He stepped back so he could be behind us. "I want you to each imagine these targets as people because that's what they are. When you take a shot, you aren't just taking down a criminal. That's someone's son or daughter, their brother or sister, their neighbor, their school mate. When you kill someone you erase all ties of them. That means you take a tie away from someone else. So think about that when you pull the trigger because you are hurting someone else too not just the criminal. Go ahead and shoot." The agents seemed a little antsy after that speech but I couldn't wait to rid myself of the silence.
Breathe.
In.
Out.
Pull the trigger.
Bang.
Breathe.
In.
Out.
Pull the trigger.
Bang.
I continued again and again in an endless cycle until I heard the familiar click of the gun. I was out of bullets. The agents stared in awe as they looked at me astonished and frightened by what they had just witnessed. Every shot was on point, dead center, exactly where I wanted it to be. My breathing became heavy as it all suddenly came back to me. I killed the wire, in the same way, with deep breaths and heartless calculations. I killed him so my mission could go on. A mission with no exact details or plans just a shady sketch of what I want. I killed a man because I had to. But as I go on I wonder if it is because I wanted to. The instructor looked as breathless as I felt, and he slowly reached for the gun and took it out of my hands. The room took a sigh of relief. "Sorry I guess I got carried away." I said as I subconsciously took a step back. The agents continued to stare in fear and awe.
When you become capable of something not many are capable of, and that thing is something you use daily, you forget the magnitude it has in society. It was my lack of judgement that caused me to show my true strength, now the agents would look at me in fear and only more questions would be raised into my past.
The instructor quickly spoke up, "I think this training session is over. Because it would seem that self defense classes for our new recruit would be futile. Now team bonding is something my partner here handles." He said pointing to a petite blonde that had just walked in. She was around my age, wearing a short red dress with matching high heels. She had just casually strolled in the room, an hour late, I pretended not to notice the cigarette in her mouth. "This is Delia."
I remember her clearly as I stiffened for a second but resumed my usual position trying not to give anything away. Matthew spoke up, "It's been a while, Delia." Matthew said cooly shaking hands.
"Yeah not since you broke up with me last new years." I made a face at that as I tried to keep in my laughter as Matthew's face turned red. "It's not my fault you're a bitch." I heard him mutter to me.
The memories started to come back to me. Belarus. I gave her a mischievous smile, I wonder if she knows the face of the girl who stabbed her.
"I'm Isabelle."
"I know exactly who you are." She sneered.
Oh things were about to get interesting.