Love Made Us Human

When I kill someone, I don’t usually allow much space for guilt. My insides seem to close up and my brain switches off. It’s as if my body works on its own. As if it knows what it’s supposed to do and my conscience should not get mixed up in this dirty business.

Everything changed when a stranger uprooted the love in his heart and placed it in my hands.

‘It’s time for you to feel this now’ he breathed.

*

When I was a child, I used to walk the streets as if everyone was against me. I’d always be aware of any shadows or odd people. When I was a child, I wanted to be a doctor, or a teacher, or a vet. I never thought I’d reach this point. People’s lives cost good money. People’s lives pay the bills like anything, I give you that. The worst part of my job used to be the moment before pulling the trigger. Watching the last few seconds of a person’s life. Eventually I got used to it. My grandmother always said, if you’re going to do anything, do it well. So if you’re going to kill someone, do it when you’re dead inside.

The way I work, I am never given any information as to why I have to kill the people I do. A wad of money is supposed to silence your questioning. In my business, things are better when you are delusional. Moral values can really take it out of you.

I have a wife called Georgia. And a dog called Paul. And daughter called Katie. We live in a nice suburban house with a lawn and a garage. It’s one of those roads were the kids ride their bikes and the neighbors have plastic smiles. It’s strange when I look back fourteen years and remember that Georgia was chosen for me by the ____ government as my wife. We seem to have built a foundation now. Our child is almost real to me. It hurts me that they think I manage a paper factory. But I’ve known since the beginning that I couldn’t get too close to them.

It’s 4: 13 am. I watch the red digits of the clock blur in the darkness. My phone vibrates on the dresser.

FILINGER IS LEAVING BAR. BE ON PORTER STREET IN SEVENTEEN MINUTES, the message read. Thomas Filinger. Chief advisor to the runner up in the polls for prime minister. In seventeen minutes it’s going to be time for another emergency at the paper factory. Georgia is sleeping soundly. She seems so out of it all. She hasn’t a clue what’s going on in this house. I step out of bed and creep downstairs. I gaze at the homeliness of the couch in the living room and Katie’s teddy bear on the floor. The scene almost brings tears to my eyes. Oh pull yourself together will you? I shove off this pain I feel and take my gun from within my briefcase. The night is cold and crisp. I breathe in the fresh air and it hurtles down my throat into my stomach. I decide walk to my victim rather than drive. It’s not too far away. I take Paul with me for company. Dogs never judge you. They’ll be there no matter what.

I arrive at the alleyway where I am going to be faced with Thomas Filinger. The government planned it out so that his death will be in one of ____’s most dangerous neighborhoods. That way it wasn’t me who killed him. It was some drunk tramp, or drug addict. I step out infront of Thomas and point the gun at his face. It isn’t like the movies were I pause and he begs. It all happens relatively fast. Don’t listen to him. Just do it.

‘Plea-’ he stutters. The gunshot interrupts him.

A thousand thoughts and emotions pass between the second of his words and the tug of the gun against my body. But there is not too much to worry about. It’s my job. The new gun silencer seems to be working a treat. It’s not too messy either. Thomas Filinger dies in a tidy and quiet way.

Paul is waiting patiently, one leg crossed over the other. He smiles at me with his eyes and licks my hand. We slip away into the night together and into our house.

The thing about me is that nobody suspects me. I move like a secret shadow. That’s why They chose me.

‘Wh-what?’ mumbles Georgia.

‘I was just getting a glass of water’ I whisper as I stroke her hair. ‘Go back to sleep’

‘Ok sweetie’ she smiles. And that’s that. Job finished for today. I hate coming home after a job. It’s at night time where I begin to remember everything. My conscience emerges in the silence and there is not much I can do to stop it. It’s night were I become atleast semi- human.

*

The day I proposed to Georgia was the right time completely. It was when I could say we were both almost inseparable. And that was lucky. You don’t get that in most plastic relationships.

‘I can’t picture my life without you, Georgia. You’ve become everything to me. So I ask, will you marry me?’ I looked into her blue eyes. They were like rushing waters. Yes, I was in love with her. Of course I was. We were on a pier at two in the morning. That’s romantic, right?

*

‘Breakfast is ready, Daniel’ calls Georgia from downstairs.I open my eyes with a start. For a moment I can’t remember what happened last night. I step out of bed and stretch. My whole body cracks. Do robots know that they have no soul? Many mornings I wake up and feel, that is what I am in a sense. A robot. I simply do as I am told, without considering that darn moral value. I have long forgotten the difference between right and wrong. The two sort of merged together in confusion. My phone vibrates on the table. My heart always beats heavily when my phone rings. My eyes dash to the calendar. Sure enough it was June the 14th. I had been told to expect a phone call today. I pick up my phone.

‘Meet me at your office in 10 minutes’.

And that’s that. The line is cut off.

*

When I was about thirteen my father taught me how to shoot with a gun. I had a gift which came completely naturally to me. I remember the shock on my father’s face when I shot the target he’d set up for me right slap bang in the center. It all went down hill from there. I was a sharp shooter. Thing is, I hardly remember my mother. When I began to shoot, she faded into the background. I have a vague memory of her being dissapointed by my new hobby, but from that moment onwards it was just me and my dad, out to pursue my talent.

When I was nineteen, four men in black suits appeared at our front door. The air had gone frigid, and suddenly I knew that I would be taken away. My talent had attracted the attention of the government of _____. The ___’s State Department hired me as a paid assassin. I can’t even remember if I wanted to go. It just seemed like something that had to be done. I was told my life had been mapped out for me. From the day I began my training, my life was smothered in death.

‘You are to go to ____, and you are to be called _____,and when we tell you, you do your job.’ That’s what every year was like, until I was told to settle in the city of _____ in 1996. The worst assignments were when I had to come in close to a person before I stole their heart beat. In September 1996 they showed me a picture of Georgia and told me :

‘This is the woman you are going to meet. You’re going to take her out, get to know her, and marry her. You are going to become a permanent citizen of _____. Nobody will suspect a thing. The man you’re going to kill is extremely suspicious. We have reasons to believe that he is planning a massive attack on ______. Until we tell you otherwise, you are Daniel Peterson, paper factory manager. You come from Bangor, Wales and you are here because you need a vacation. We will give you an office in a paper factory where you will be the manager. When you meet Georgia you will fall in love with her and tell her she is the reason you are staying here’

*

Frank Turner is my boss. When I force all my attention into serving him, and giving the man what he wants, it seems to dampen the shock of every mission. I tell Georgia I’m going to buy a newspaper and run out of the house, down the road to the paper factory. Frank Turner is sitting at my desk, the framed picture of my family in his hands.

‘Goodmorning, Nathan.’ He mutters.

‘Ok. So. The time has come. Cyril Arvin will be taking a trip with his wife up to the mountains, in _____. You are going to be taken there two days in advance to wait for them. Take a taxi to ____ Airport and wait for a man in a blue suit and green tie in the Departures Lounge’

I can’t believe it. It’s really happening. I will murder Cyril Arvin. The terrorist I’ve been waiting for, for fourteen years.

‘A car will come and pick you up this evening. Tell Georgia you are going to a conference in _____. You will be back in three days.’

I walk down back home in a daze. Georgia glances at my empty hand with no newspaper but doesn’t say anything. I can’t even bother to make an excuse. I suddenly feel afraid. Is my whole life going to change after today?

‘Morning, Daddy’ my daughter exclaims. Her two front teeth are missing. It’s almost provokes a sense of love in me. I stare blankly into her eyes. Her big green eyes full of love and emotion. They are too pure for me to understand. Stop it. You’re not supposed to love, remember?

‘Good morning Katie.’

Georgia pushes a plate of eggs and bacon and a stick of celery in front of me. We all sit round the kitchen table. We chat because that is what we do. We are a happy family. I don’t consider that today may be the last day that we are a family. What waits for me now that my mission will be over?

‘Georgia I’m going to a paper recycling conference today. I was just told. It’s going to be in ______, so I’ll be back in three days’.

Georgia nods and asks something vague about souvenirs. I don’t pay much attention to her words.

I slip in and out of alertness all day. Things are pretty routine. I take Katie to school. She forgets her packed lunch so I rush home and drop it off at reception for it to be given to her at lunch time. I come home and Georgia has gone to the hairdresser. The house is empty. I decide to go to work. I pick up my briefcase and get in the car. I stare into my reflection in the mirror. I almost can’t see my eyes. It’s like an opaque veil has fallen before them, blocking out my soul. They’re like dead fish.

I start the car and drive and drive and drive. That’s all I want to focus on right now. Drive and drive and drive.

I walk into the building of the paper factory. People greet me with happiness and respect. I wave and rush into my office. It’s quarter to five. I answer some phone calls, I photocopy, I recycle, I send emails. When the time comes, I take a taxi to the airport.

Finding the man in the blue suit with a green tie is not difficult. Everything seems to fall right into place. I am placed in a red Audi and taken hours out of town. When I arrive, I’m given a gun and a bag with provisions. I sit in the bushes about fifty metres from the cabin they’ll be staying in. I am now totally alone. It will be getting dark soon but I’m not afraid. Darkness is not so bad if you constantly live in it whether its day or night. Then and there, for the first time in my life, I begin to ask myself if this is it? Is this what I’m made for? There has to be something more. I don’t know what it means to feel. I begin to feel guilt and fear stretch into every corner of my body. How did I become such a monster? The excuse that I am killing for the good of my country died along with the first man I killed. The leaves rustled and chattered in the wind. Gradually I begin to fall asleep.

*

‘Do you ever wonder if somebody could take your life in just a moment?’

I jump up in surprise. I look around and my eyes lock with the large grey eyes of the stranger.

‘What?’ I ask startled.

‘You kill repeatedly. Yet you’ve never wondered if someone could do the same to you one day’ the man said. His words were clear and refreshing. Like drinking from a cold, fresh river.

‘Don’t take away people’s chance to start over. Everyone needs a chance to start over. Whoever they might be.’

I remain silent.

‘I’m not convinced you disagree with me either’

I smile. His words seem to convince me instantly. It’s as if I’d been waiting to hear this all my life. I don’t even wonder how he knows these things about me, we just appear to be friends already.

‘You know me well’ I reply. But suddenly thoughts begin to consume me. Streams of various words engulf me and tell me that I need to walk away NOW.

The stranger walks towards me and takes my hand.

‘I need to give you something. Don’t be scared ok? Love won’t harm you’

I watch him in curiosity. Suddenly, the stranger falls to his knees. His arms stretch out and his chest is pulled open to reveal a bleeding heart. I feel a buzz working its way all around my body as if its breaking off all the darkness and dirt. The area around us fills with beams of thick, full, white light. An electricity within my spirit moves at high speed through my veins. My arms and legs begin to feel numb. The stranger then tears out his heart, and hands me a gold ball of fire. I fall to the ground, tears streaming down my face. It’s a cry I’ve never felt before. A scream from the inner most parts of my soul, an outburst of desperation to be clean from all I had done all my life.

‘It’s time for you to feel this now’ the stranger says, looking into my heart. The weight of every person I had ever killed falls upon me like the whole world has fallen upon my shoulders. The stranger laughs with me. Not in mockery, but in love. His laugh is beautiful, better than any music I’ve heard. Tears come to me. I know that everything is coming to an end now. Things are changing.

‘I’m sorry’ I weep. ‘I’m so, so sorry’

‘You will wake up alive’ he says.

*

I wake up with a start. I am sprawled on the forest floor and the sun has risen. It must even be the middle of the day I heard voices echo in the distance. I couldn’t have been asleep for two days, could I? But indeed, I have been. I see Cyril Arvin and his wife walk up the steps into their cabin. Out of reflex, my hand reaches for the gun. I see him through the window, unpacking groceries. But at that moment my mind suddenly becomes very clear and sharp.

‘You will wake up alive now’

All the emotions of the previous night come rushing back to me, digging right into the depths of my heart. Suddenly, Cyril turns around and looks straight at me. Now is the time. I need to shoot now. Come on. DO IT. What are you waiting for? Think of the money that’s waiting for you. You can’t give up now. I don’t know what I am doing, but as if controlled by something other than myself, I drop the gun on the floor, and begin to walk down the mountain. I know they’ll search for me but I don’t care anymore. It’s time to be alive now. With a slight sense of pain I leave it all behind. I don’t know where I’m going. But when you’ve seen love, does it really matter?