The Bone Cutter

Chapter Fifty-two

just fyi but anytime I picture a US president in a novel I picture president Nixon does anyone else do that??? this is a realization i only just had, and now i feel weird. what about nixon is so stereotypical for a US president? hmmm

Chapter Fifty-two

The Harvester's gown is heavy. My anxiety and dread feel heavier. The belt of bone hangs on my waist, and the diamonds coat the gown like glitter.

I can see everyone's anticipation for the day. This is the biggest even of their lives, and there is a great possibility this will be the last time a presidential killing would occur. Though, I doubt that.

Inanis seems stuck in his own head. When they finish in his dressing room, he came over to mine. His usual crimson coat decorated in jewels and lace, he looked as gorgeous as he always does.

He sits beside me, as the stylists finish my hair, and leave us to talk. "I'll be right beside you, Mirea." He says, leaning back. "Don't think about it, just press the blade against her neck, and slice. That's it. You don't even have to look, keep your eyes closed if you have to. You'll realize just how easy killing someone is."

"That doesn't help."

A frown, and then, "Okay, well, if it'd help, I have my medication-"

"You want me to drug myself?"

He looks so tired, "I'm just trying here, okay? This is it, if you just, go through with this, then we're done. We are done, Mirea. We can go back home, and sleep for a month, we don't even have to leave the house, just-" He struggles to even speak, "Just do this, just get it over with, and do it."

I've never seen him so desperate for something. His usual confident aura was completely gone. He looks simply like a man pretending to be Inanis Messor.

It was sad to watch, but it still didn't cover up the fact that he was asking me to kill an innocent woman in public for the sake of the American approval. Did he not understand how wrong that was, how does he not care?

"Okay." I say, even though I feel like throwing up. He stands, and takes me hand, forcing me to stand with him. 

"I'm going to be right there, Mirea." 

My stomach flips at his kindness. He's never nice like this, it's almost normal, and that's is really peculiar for him. 

And then, I wonder, if this whole time, the reason he has been losing sleep, is because deep down, he's uncertain that I'm going to be able to do it.

This whole time, could it be, that he's been scared?

I stare at him, and he's beautiful. I feel my heartbeat racing in my chest, simply because I love him. He's a pain, and his personality is quite possibly the worst I've ever seen in someone, but I love him for it, I adore everything about him -with the exception of the stealing his dying mother's pain meds, and chopping vice president limbs.

"Inanis, you know I love you right? I-" I try to continue, but he cuts me off by pulling me in, and kissing me. He holds onto me tight, like he refuses to let go, and I can feel his desperation in the kiss, his extreme dedication to our marriage, and his certainty that it will not last.

I then begin to question, if it ever was supposed to last.

I wrap my arms around his neck, feeling his warmth. Our chests together, I can feel his own racing heartbeat. He felt, just like me, anxious, perhaps even terrified.

When we move apart, he says, "You'll do fine, it's not so hard."

"Right."

"Right." He has his arm coiled around my waist, and we, together, walk out of the dressing room.