John F. Kennedy: The End of Camelot

John F. Kennedy: The End of Camelot Ch.3

Chapter 3

Location: the White House

Character: Caroline Kennedy

Day: November 21, 2013

Time: 3:51 pm

As soon as we entered the White House, I noted, a large crowd had streamed up agianst the gates. They we screaming in my face, demanding to know how Father had survived. That was at least 1/3 of the crowd screaming at me. The other 2/3 of the crowd had their attention on Father.

Father had dark circles under his eyes from the lack of sleep. He looked troubled by the shouting and the swelling of the crowds. They shrieked and yelled. They also bombarded us with questions. How Father was alive was mostly the one used.

"How did John F. Kennedy survive?"

"Your son is dead! He was killed a plane crash!"

"Jackie died of lung cancer!"

"Can I get your autograph?"

I closed my eyes, tears silently coming from my cheeks. When I opened them again we were in the White House. President Obama turned to a secret service agent.

"Guard the door," he ordered firmly. "If anyone tries to come ask for their ID and why they are here. If they don't give a good reason, send them off. We need to chase the crowd away. If another Parkland attack happens, innocent Americans will be killed."

"Yes, sir," the agent nodded quicky, her grey eyes staring at the pounding of the doors. They were going to collapse any minute, she was probably thinking.

I felt safe in the White House though. It gave me comfort. Father was a different story though.

He was looking around nervously and inspecting the place. His eyes fell on the lush carpet, plush chairs, and a brilliant set of white roses on a countertop. I grabbed his arm and he winced a bit.

"Come on," I said, impatiently tugging his sleeve like a six year old. "I want to show you something."

He didn't object. I led him toward the portraits of the presidents. I stopped at the 35th mark. He looked up and saw what piece of art I was admiring.

His portrait had him crossing his arms and wearing some khakis. He was wearing a black polo shirt. He was staring at the floor.

Beneath the photo was "John F. Kennedy: 1917-1963."

I felt him tense up. A choked sound escaped his mouth. I turned to look at him. He looked like he was about to cry.

"This feels so wrong," he said, staring down at me. I didn't know how to respond. "I'm supposed to be dead but they revived me from the dead. It feels wrong." He looked at me. His eyes were bright. But they looked haunting and dull.

I stared at him. "It isn't wrong. It proves there are people who love you."

"Right," he snapped. "As if there are people who hate me because of my mistakes."

"They do," I murmured too soflty for him to hear me. I flinched when I heard a loud bang go off near the entrance.

"Some drunk fool," I said, scowling at the door. "Come on. Let's go before they manage to break in."

As I weaved around the White House, I heard another bang go off followed by a loud piercing shriek. I cringed again but kept moving.

Father hurried up beside me. His eyes were downcast when a secret service agent came running down the hallway. She was sweating.

"Agent," I snapped, "what are you doing here-?"

"Someone's here to see you," the agent said cutting me off. She avoided eye contact with Father's eyes. "I don't know what he wants, he says he wants to talk with him." She quietly pointed at Father.

I saw fear in her eyes. I didn't understand. Was she afraid of Father? Or the intruder? I ignored the queasy feeling in my stomach and replied, "Okay. But if it's one of Fury's soldiers, we'll bust their open."

"Mrs. Kennedy, it's-" the agent started to speak again but was cut off as a more mature agent came from the shadows.

"Mr. Kennedy, Mrs. Schlossberg." He nodded politely. "This way, please."

I glanced at Father. He looked worried. "Stop with the looks," I snapped. "Its nothing to worry about. Just some idiot."

Father just nodded. His eyes were still downcast. He followed the agents toward a small room at the end of the hallway. I stared at the window while people pounded on the glass, silently screaming.

I saw Father's face was so pale. He was shaking. Why is he so afraid? I thought silently.

We entered a room I wasn't familiar with. The walls were painted a dark green with blue splotches. I saw there was a dent in the middle of the room as if someone has decided to play paintball right then and there. But my attention flied toward a man, an old man, with graying white hair, and he was facing away from us so I couldn't see his expression.

He was reading a book. The book was called: John F. Kennedy: The King of Camelot. But all my curiosity vanished when he turned around and my heart skipped a beat.

I was staring into the eyes of the former secret service agent, Clint Hill.

Location: Unknown

Character: John

Day: November 21, 2013

Time: 4:09 pm

I gnawed on the inside of my cheek, carefully and drawing some blood.

Beside me, Caroyln was throbbing with excitement. She tried her hardest to shut up. But I'm guessing she was glad that we were no longer cursed on the island. Serves us right.

I peeked open one eye. A plane was heading straight toward us, with pure intent. It landed near us. Sarah emerged from the enterance and smiled at us.

"Welcome back," she said, dipping her head in a mocking bow. "How does it feel to be alive again?"

"Shut up, Sarah," Carolyn said, though she was smilimg too.

The young woman-age 31- laughed before shaking her head. "I'm teasing you guys." She turned serious. "Did you hear the news?"

"What news?" John asked her stupidly and dumbly. "The news about me returning from the dead."

Caroyln put her hand up in mock horror. "John, you're scaring me. Just stop."

"Not that," Sarah said, cutting off the couple's love. "The one about your father, John-John."

"My father?" John shook his head. "He died 50 years ago."

Sarah shined up, her grey eyes staring at him. "I'll tell you more on the plane and that including the rise of Fury."

"Fury?" John shook his head as Caroyln and his children followed him the plane. "What type of name is that?"

Sarah gave him a wry, dry smile. "I honestly don't know," she admitted. "I don't really know."

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I put John F. Kennedy Jr in the story because my dad has this rumor flying about in his head that John Jr survived his plane crash and is now living on an island so I decided to test the theory a bit 😁

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Yes I know, John Jr is not alive but I wanted to put him in so Jack could meet him and have the friendly encounter between father and son 😆

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