"Je t’aime," she said, the French words slurring slightly as she spoke. "I love you to Aimèe, I won’t let them get away with this," Steve declaired strongly. He looked into her clear blue eyes one last time, and his facade broke. Silent tears rolled down his face as he watched her fade away. Blod stained his white, button-down shirt as he held her limp body in his arms. She always liked me to wear that type of shirt. She thought they made me look sophisticated. If I had been smart though, I wouldn’t have let her come here today.
~
My story began in the large city of Bishkek. The summers were always too hot, and the winters were always too cold. I hated living in Russia, I missed my hometown. I had to be there though, I had to attend a writers convention. I told everyone I wanted to follow my passion, and now I was paying the price.
The good thing about living here was the writing classes. I had improved quite a bit taking them, and I couldn’t wait to show the people at the convention the improvements to my novel. Confidence usually wasn’t my thing, but I felt that this was my best work yet. Everyone said that I needed to gain confidence, but I never did, I just learned how to act.
~
Now that I think about it, I fit in better in Russia.
~
Time moved rather slowly the week of the convention. My patience was wearing thin, it wasn’t good for anyone to sit in an apartment all day long. I could have called my friend Victor, but I didn’t feel like it, I decided instead to go and eat.
The restaurant I picked was packed. It took nearly an hour just to get my food, and when I got it, it was under-cooked. So instead of wasting more time there I decided to take a walk home. After all it could clear my head.
It was already late afternoon when I began the long walk home. Not many people were out on the streets. Everyone was afraid to be out, especially at night. People turned up missing, and if they were found, it wasn't alive.
My walk home seemed as if it would be very uneventful. The moon was out, but it was blocked from view by some neighboring trees. The two of them paired together created eerie shadows, that stretched across the road ahead of me. I tried to keep my mind on the bright patches of light, and that was the only reason I noticed her.
Small frightened eyes stared at me. I could tell she wanted to run, but her feet were frozen in place. My foot was caught in half step, and I realized that I was staring at her. A cut off scream escaped her throat, but it sounded like a shrill whisper.
"I wont hurt you," I cautioned.
She still didn’t move, so I let my gaze drop to the ground. A little notebook caught my attention.
"Um, you dropped your notebook, ma’am.
Her speech came out as stammers at first, but became clearer and clearer the more she spoke.
"I’m not old enough to be called ma’am," she retorted.
A French accent ran deep in her voice. I noticed her shoulders began to relax, so I took a chance and began to meander over to her. She didn’t move so I continued to walk towards her. I stooped down and grabbed her notebook, handing it to her afterwards.
"Merci," she said flashing a pearly white smile.
"Anytime", I replied, "Sorry I cant say it in French."
She giggled quietly without replying.
"So, what’s a pretty girl like you doing out here this late?"
A contemplative look crossed her face.
"I couldn’t sleep, I’m waiting to go to a writing convention," she replied.
"The one that happens on Monday?"
Shock covered her face, "How did you know?"
"That’s the whole reason I’m in Russia. Would you like me to walk you home? It’s not really safe out here."
She looked at me hesitantly for a moment, and then replied. "Sure, I’m sure your safer than most people out here.
"What’s your name by the way?
"Aimèe, and yours?"
"Steve, I said in embarrassment, I never liked my name. It seemed to old and simple. She smiled a big cheesy grin, "I love it."
~
From then on, days in Russia wern’t long enough for me. I was always with Aimèe, except at night. She would always leave in the afternoon, and I would suffer her absence until the next day.
Monday was coming up, and that meant the writers convention was to. Aimèe came over as usual, and we prepared for the next day. It grew late, but she didn’t leave. We were both to engulfed in our writings.
"You know, we have to stop sometime," she said stiffling a yawn.
"Yeah," I said looking up from my paper.
I scooted over beside her and brushed her cheek with my hand.
I studied her face, and I found a question written on it.
"What do you want to ask me?"
"Do you care if I stay here tonight, it’s to late to walk home."
A smile played at the edge of my mouth, "Sure, I don’t mind."
~
"C'est lundi," Aimèe declared.
"Sure is," I mumbled throwing a pillow over my face.
"We have to get ready to go to the convention," she said impatiently.
"I know that," I said as I sat up and wiped the sleep out of my eyes.
I watched Aimèe as she combed her glossy, auburn hair. She placed a clip in it, holding her bangs out of her face. I grabbed a black T-shirt and some jeans, and began to pull them on.
"Now that won’t do," Aimèe said giving me a disapproving look. She began to fumble through my drawers. After a while she pulled out a black, button-down shirt.
"Put it on," she demanded.
I did as I was told, and then we left for the convention.
"Stay close to me now, Aimeê, it’s not safe here."
The reason it wasn’t safe in Russia, was because of the soldiers. They didn’t care what you did, they used any excuse they could find to kill.
"I’ll be fine, I’ve lived here longer than you," she retorted.
We arrived at the convention early, so I found Victor and began to talk to him. Aimeê said she had to go to the bathroom, so I told her I would wait for her at the spot I was standing in. She disappeared into the crowd of people, and I continued to talk to Victor.
The next thing I knew I heard a gunshot fired. You would think people would be screaming, but they weren’t. It was to common in Russia, to many dead. I walked over to see what happened, but what I found wasn’t what I expected. What I found was Aimèe, covered in blood, laying on the ground. I gasped in horror at the sight of her body. I snatched her lifeless body up, ignoring the protests of the soldiers.
"Je t’aime," she said, the French words slurring slightly as she spoke. "I love you to Aimèe, I won’t let them get away with this," I declared strongly. I
looked into her clear blue eyes one last time, and my facade broke. Silent tears rolled down my face as I watched her fade away. Blood stained my white, button-down shirt as I held her limp body in my arms. She always liked me to wear that type of shirt. She thought they made me look sophisticated. If I had been smart though, I wouldn’t have let her come here today.
The soldiers jerked her body out of my arms, I screamed in protest, and began to beat the soldier in the face. They couldn’t stop me, they killed my, Aimèe! The next feeling I had was a sharp pain in my chest. I looked down to see the fresh bullet wound there. Things began to get blurry, and finally they faded away. "I’m coming with you Aimèe, just wait, I’m coming.
