Verdict

I don’t think I’ll ever get over the surprise of being asked ‘Why’d you kill her?’ in my lifetime. Each time I am pulled into another court of law, another panel of juries, and to be tried again and again for my crimes. It’s the same dull moments in life where I am almost certain I am to live my life in prison. How many times can I be asked the same question over and over again? I still give the same answer but not the real answer.

-----------

When life begins, it’s either meant to die or go on and succeed in something. Most people in life don’t end up doing something they love because they couldn’t find it in this lifetime. And others go on in life finding what they love the most, then they live on after dying in stories and such. But those who don’t have a chance to live and find their dreams are the ones I don’t get to enjoy. This is when I first met Cecilia, at the local supermarket.

--------

My eyes wandered down the long paths of shelves and many, many different foods. Towering above my small frame, jars of glass and plastic sat there waiting for someone to choose them. Labels of bright colors blinded my weak eyesight, making my tired eyes cringe to find some relief. I slowly pushed the metal cart forward, hunched over, trying to shield myself from these things. People pushed past me, sending me looks and glares when they thought I wouldn’t see them. I made my way out the and into the wave of shelves. A single woman stood in the way, a very fat, pregnant woman stood in my way.

I pushed the cart closer, trying to edge my way around her. She noticed me instantly and pulled the cart aside with some difficulty. I frowned, wanting to grab my items and get out of this place as quick as possible. But this fat cow was blocking my way and it pissed me off greatly. I let my eyes roam as I told her I needed to get something. She stepped back, showing her rather swollen legs and large belly to my poor eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she said, giving me a look of sincere apology. My frown deepened and I had to glare at her now. Her eyes flashed as she caught my gaze and she slowly backed away from me. My fingers wrapped around the glass pickle jar and I slowly brought it before my face to read the label. I heard the click of flip-flops hitting the linoleum floor and I glanced sideways to see her waddling farther away from me. A low growl threatened to burst from the back of my throat as I watched her. She ruined my day and she was going to pay for that.

“Wait up!” I called out, getting her to stop in her tracks and glance over her shoulder at me. I noticed her blue eyes watching me with the tinge of fear placed in them. I made my way towards her, my small frame dropping the intimidation I usually hold. I had to gain the woman’s trust before letting my truer self show through. “I’m sorry for being so rude to you,” I said, trying to give a look of apology. She nodded slowly; her fingers gripping the plastic handle guard.

“It’s ok,” she replied, her eyes darting nervously and falling on random objects. I shook my head, trying to tell her it wasn’t.

“How about I treat you to something to eat to make up for my rudeness?” I suggested, giving my neck a quirky little bow. She smiled and slowly nodded, her other hand gripping the hem of her maternity shirt.

-------------

I led her down the street after helping her with putting her bags away and mine as well, to the local coffee shop. We stepped into the slightly warm, small shop and the smell of coffee filled our noses. She gave me a smile and found a small table close to the window. I followed suit as she sat down and a waitress came to grab our orders. She ordered a Mocha Latte and I ordered a French Vanilla coffee. The woman skittered off and we were left in several minutes’ silence. I watched her out of the corner of my eye. She toyed with the thread on her shoulder before plunking it out and dropping it to the floor.

“So, what is your name?” she asked, not bothering to look up and meet my eyes. I mentally scowled but kept my cool in front of her.

“Name’s Charlie. What’s yours?” I asked, seeing the same waitress with two glasses coming towards us. I heard her say something but I wasn’t paying attention. “Sorry, what is your name again?” I asked as our glasses were put in front of us. I could hear her sigh heavily before saying her name again.

“My name’s Cecilia.” another long pause and I watched as she raised the glass to her lips. I tore my eyes away from her and allowed them to roam the little shop. At least a dozen little tables sat everywhere, the tall stool like chairs pushed in or out. People sat and talked quietly amongst each other or some sat alone, reading a newspaper or magazine. Different smells of coffee flooded my nose, making me crinkle it upwards for a moment before exhaling.

Twenty minutes later we left the shop. I walked her back to her car, helping her sit down in the plush leather seat and handing her the seal belt. She smiled widely and shut the door as I stepped back. My hand slid into my right jeans pocket, feeling the sleek pocketknife waiting. The car started and pulled out slowly. I hurried back to my own black car and quickly followed after this woman.

-------

I can’t really explain why I did what I did but for everyone listening, I do not regret what I’ve done. When I followed her, stalked her for hours, and finally went in for the kill, I don’t regret it. As my fingers curled around her throat and I brought the life upwards. As cruel as it may sound, I enjoy feeling the warm sensation of blood running down my fingers.

When I cut open her stomach and pulled the tiny child forth between my large hands, the feeling made me high. I held new life in front of me while the mother lay dying, the cycle coming to a close for her. I heard the gurgling sob erupt from her throat. I slowly moved towards her, held the child out and allowed her to hold the baby before I ran the knife against her throat again.

No, I am not inhuman, nor do I not have feelings. I harbor everything deep inside, I have to, and I have to make sure nothing will get between my job and me. If your feelings constantly override your job, then you’ll never succeed and you’ll lose the cash from the hit you’re supposed to make. You ask me to tell you what happened, can you really take the details?

I took the life I held and slowly smothered it. The tiny child wailed and kicked its legs and waved its’ arms. It did not take long, maybe three minutes at the most. The thing slowly stopped moving, and the tiny chest no longer rose to meet each breath of precious air. Then, I turn towards the dead mother, lay the child within the shield of her arms and place two pennies over her lifeless eyes. I wanted to insure she made a safe passage across River Styx.

----

The air is heavy in the courtroom. I can almost sense they are making their decision via mind to mind. Lawyers, the judge, and the woman’s family are all holding their breath. I gave them a truthful story, hoping they would pity me and give me life in prison. The heat in the court seems stifling, there’s too many people in here due to the news camera people and reporters hoping to hear the verdict. Everyone is holding their breath, including I. It is almost like a bad dream but you can’t wake up from this nightmare. A slip of paper is handed to the judge and he slowly unfolds it, drawing out the suspense even more. I can feel my heart constricting as I grip the arms of the chair.

“Not guilty.”