Constellations

The Art of Revenge

A/N :  This is a short story that I had to write for my Creative Writing class last year. Kind of weird that I chose to write this when we were allowed to write about anything lol. Anyway- I know there's a lot of information dumping. I had to do that because it was only allowed to be 5 pages long, so I had to fit a lot of info in a little amount of space. I rewrote it a little bit and added a lot more details to make it a better story for Wattpad. Enjoy :)

The Art Of Revenge

I gazed up at the inky black sky, trying to pass the time by seeing if I could discern the clusters of stars as constellations. My long, dark brown hair clung to my neck, which was damp with sweat. I had been to Italy before and I didn’t recall it being this hot, but then again, I hadn’t been sitting on a rooftop for hours in the middle of summer. I wanted nothing more than to close my eyes and rest, but I knew that wasn’t possible.

With a sigh, I adjusted my position and returned my attention back to the streets below me. Florence was a beautiful city at night with the lights illuminating the beautiful, old buildings and cobblestone streets. As much as I wanted to enjoy the view, I had work to do. I was a lone goddess sitting atop Olympus, waiting to deliver my wrath.

I peered through the scope of my rifle, sweeping the area. My target had been scheduled to emerge from the hotel across the street over an hour ago. I knew he would be coming out soon. I just wanted to get this assignment over with so I could go home and relax, although I knew I wouldn’t catch a break. Even the daughter of Angelo Valenza, the mob boss himself, didn’t get special treatment. In fact, I probably got even harsher treatment than the other assassins for that very reason. I was an asset to the mafia because my appearance was deceiving. No one would expect a seventeen year old girl with delicate features to be an experienced killer.

I had been trained from when I was very young, starting at seven years old. I spent my childhood being passed around between relatives that were involved in the “family business”, homeschooling and training. There was no time for fun or friends. I dedicated all my energy to trying to please my father, but he was always too involved with the mafia to pay any attention to me or show me an ounce of love. My mother had been smart and left before the mob life could consume her. Unfortunately for me, that meant leaving me alone with my father. Sometimes I wondered if I would still be forced into being an assassin if my mother were around.

The people that I was assigned to kill were men just as bad as my father. They lied, they hurt, they murdered, and they stopped at nothing to get what they wanted. However, I never felt like I was doing any justice. Every job I completed left me feeling hollow. It created a void inside me, and there was nothing in my life to fill it. No love, no happiness. They taught me hundreds of ways to kill someone, but nothing they could have said would prepare me to deal with the aftermath of it.  After nearly two years of being an assassin, I was finally reaching my breaking point.

I was so deep in thought that I almost didn’t notice the doors to the hotel opening. At last, my target, Antonio Bertucci, emerged from the building. I quickly honed in on him through my scope, aiming directly for his head. However, my focus faltered when two little boys and a woman came out of the doors behind him. He scooped up one of the boys in his arms, saying something that  made the boy giggle wildly. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of longing. I wished  I had a father like that, who actually loved his kid instead of treating them just like another employee. I gritted my teeth and tried to dislodge the thought from my mind. Normally I could complete an assignment without any second thoughts, but lately I had been questioning everything. I was breaking the number one rule: never let your emotions get in the way of a task.