John F. Kennedy: The End of Camelot

John F. Kennedy: The End of Camelot Ch. 1

Chapter 1

Location: the White House

Character: Caroline Kennedy

Day: November 21, 1963

Time: 2:27 pm

I closed my eyes, submitting to sleep. Immedialty when I did, terrifying photos of the past, present, and future filled my eyes. The bloodsoaked shirt that had been my father's went thorough me. I could remember my mother showing me the shirt in a musuem.

I'd felt nauseated. I had wanted to throw up. But I didn't. My eyes burned.

Same thing with Bobby. I'd watched the clip of him being assassianted before my eyes. It had been in black and white so I didn't see any blood, just screaming.

Another vision filled my eyes. Fury had Father pinned to the bed, a giant knife in her hands. She was laughing.

"Come on," she said to me. "Take another step, Mrs. Schlossberg, and he's history."

I looked back at Father. This was a dream. A simulation. But his eyes said otherwise. They were calm eyes even facing death. I shivered remembering the Cold War and how Krushev had bullied Father into agreeing. The old man had not succeeded. Father was strong willed. I glared at Fury, whose smile grew wider.

"No," I snapped. "You can't kill him. He's a political figure."

Fury's grin got even dirtier then I imagined. "Who gives a crap about politics?" She asked me. "They don't mean anything." She stroked the knife over Father's back. He flinched.

I saw his lips move. He was staring at me. Pain showed in his eyes.

"It's okay," he said softly. "I understand. Let her kill me."

"No!" I shook my head, my long hair flickering in the dark light. "I can't lose you like I did to Mother. Or John-John."

By this time, Fury had drove the knife deeper into Father's stomach. I stared, my eyes filled with agnoy. I could almost share his pain. Blood dripped out of his mouth.

"How touching," Fury smiled. Her smile was hideous. "I have a better idea."

I was frozen into place. I swallowed hard as she picked a gun from her pocket and handed it to me. I stared at her.

"Kill him." Her voice was calm and eerie.

"What?" I stared at her again, hardly. The anger faded from me, replaced by a dull throb.

"Kill him," Fury repeated, her eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. "I won't kill you if you kill him."

I held in the gun in my hand, my throat dry. I stared at the gun.

"Do it," Fury screamed. Her eyes were blazing. "Kill him! Or I'll shoot you!"

There was a click. A cold barrel pressed against my temple. Father's green eyes widened.

"I'll give you till three," she snapped, her eyes glittering. "One..."

I stared at Father. He smiled back calmly.

"It's okay," he said. "Just remember I love you, Caroline."

"Two..."

I felt the gun press more against my forehead. I winced.

"Time's up!" Fury screeched. "Three!"

There was a loud click, followed by a bang.

Location: the White House

Character: Jean Kennedy

Day: November 21, 2013

Time: 2:56 pm

Jean watched a nervous John Kennedy pace the room they were sharing. He looked nervous. His usually combed hair was askew and puffed from the lack of sleep.

"You need to sleep," she said, speaking in that cooing voice she used. "You're tired and worn out."

Jack didn't answer. He continued to pace until he spoke, directing his question at her.

"What happened?"

She stared at him. She knew what he was talking about. A lump formed in her throat.

"Jean." His voice sounded softer. "I have to know."

"Jack." Her breath had gone cold. She didn't know what to tell him. If she told him, he'd go into a shock from all the blood he'd seen. "Bobby, Ted, Jackie. John-John. Father. Mother. Pat. And then there's Kick."

"She was already dead," he said, his voice flat and filled with emotion.

"Things changed," she blinked her eyes softly. "People worship you now like a King. Others still hate and wish for your legacy to burn out."

The words felt dry and untasty in her throat. She swallowed hard and stared at her palms.

She stared at the scar on his throat. The scar was now purple. It was never going to heal. His right eye also drooped at times like his vison would fail but he was still a hero. He looked...bent over...

"What," he choked out, "happened to Jackie?"

Jean's hands felt cold and suddenly icy. She remembered Jackie staring up at her. The smile was calm on her face but then at that moment, Jean could see the lie plastered onto that fake smile. Jackie had lied and said she was going to heaven with Jack. But Jack wasn't in heaven. He was in a morgue slab, ready to reawaken into a world full of terrors and pain and agony and bloodshed.

She lied to us, Jean's eyes burned with fury at the thought. She told us Jack was in heaven. She lied and told us he was dead. But he wasn't. He was alive, just in a coma for his soul to reawaken.

"She died of lung cancer," she said quielty and slowly. "After smoking and drinking too much."

He looked heartbroken. His eyes were alert though. "What about John-John?"

"Plane crash," Jean spat the word out like poison. "He crashed his plane. People found his body. But some people debate it really wasn't the real body."

Jack looked like he was about to cry. He stared at her. Green eyes filled with tears.

"I can't take this anymore," he said softly. Without waiting for Jean to reply, he burst out the room and into the hallway.

Jean let him go. There would be plenty of time for him to grieve before Fury had the brains to attack the Capitol of the United States of America.

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Sorry for the slow update 😭✌️

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Two more weeks of school now though yay 😊❤️✌️