'Till Death Do Us Part

If you Blink you'll Miss it

( Almost 10 years later )

It's April thirteenth, my fifteenth birthday. I sit at the PDM (point defiance marina) pier, my sandals at my side, my bare feet tickled by the school of fish that swim by. My head is inclined toward the semi-blue sky my eyes closed. I sigh and my shoulders slump...a fog horn followed by loud swearing shakes me out of my shallow sleep. I hear one voice in particular and one eye slits open. Gordan, the Russian accent on his thin white lips sounds like idiocy as he has no ideas that he's going to die today.

A sad laugh echoes around me. I wait for the fishing boat to dock. As they unload the tons of dead meat from aboard I get up and slip on my sandals. I ruffle my bright blonde hair, push up my bikini top and put on the cotton, skin complimenting see through sweater over it, I refuse to get blood on my favorite swimwear. I push my glasses over my crystal blue eyes and onto my nose and stride gracefully towards my target.

I lean against the ice cart's side, the men continue to throw their fish. I breath in the tainted air and take deep breath. "Hi sir," I bat my thick eyelashes. Gordan glances up quickly then slows his pace slightly. "Da?" I giggle. "Ya so uh me and my friends over there," I vaguely point to a group of over cleavaged underdressed girls. "Are trying to find Widby Island. Can you like help?" He looks up fully then, takes the group in then looks at me. He smirks.

"Da, I help you now, come." He grabs my hand and I grimace, this man took part in the killing 10 years ago. He killed my neighbor, Lucaine, she was five months pregnant with her daughter Cecile. Deep breaths, in out, in out. He pulls me into the alley and takes out a worn town map. He points out a small land map and gives me directions I pay half attention to. "You know where to go now da?" I smile.
I cock my head to the side. "Oh my poor little Russian , you see I always knew where to go... but do you?"

He blinks slowly. That was a mistake. Rule #1. Don't blink. I whip out the blade in my waistband within seconds and put it against the base of his throat. "YA proshchayu tebya v sleduyushchey zhizni." (I'll forgive you in the next life.)He looks at me confused, "What have I done?" I look at him a tear in my eye. "You decided to kill my friend in the war, and you will pay my sweet."

I plunge this into his heart. He slips a tear the same time as me before falling. I take back my bejeweled knife and wipe it on his shirt before slipping it back into place. I turn away and take a deep breath before walking out into the world again. No blood no mess everything looks ordinary. One missing fisherman. One more victim. Number eighty-nine. I smirk as I strut away, one less murderer in the world, just another idiot.