I Hate Weddings Part On
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Health Wellness

I Hate Weddings Part On

A short story about someone struggling with life and makes the ultimate sacrifice.

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I Hate Weddings Part On
https://www.pexels.com/photo/man-hugging-woman-near-seashore-1464816/

The bride and groom were glowing. Their smiles were shining brighter than any spotlight. They were happy. I, on the other hand, was not. I wanted nothing more than to be very far away from this wedding, but I had to be here. My job required that I be here. And my job pays the bills, so I'll just suck it up and deal with it until I can be released.
"Hi! Oh my God, that dress is gorgeous! Savannah, you are killing it! Strut your stuff!" I acknowledged the people I passed by. I knew these people. I knew these people well. It made my job that much harder to do.
You never really do forget the sound of a gunshot. Or the sound after it. Your ears are ringing and if you zone out as I do then the sounds all become muffled.
Every kill just brings me a little closer to the day I can leave this place. The problem with leaving is what I'll do after. I don't know how to do anything else, but this job. I'm wanted in two different countries, so I can't do anything government related. This is the only thing I've ever known. But leaving is a problem for the future, and I'll deal with it then. For right now, I'm going to do my job, however much it pains me emotionally to do so.
"Hey, Brooke, can we talk somewhere private real quick?" I had my best smile, but I could already feel the guilt eating at me for what I'm about to do.
"Yeah sure. Give me a second," Brooke walked over to Jared, her husband, to whisper in his ear. I turned away to face my exit and the room I was about to complete my job in. I couldn't look at them. I couldn't feel the weight of what I was about to do to them. I couldn't, so when I turned around and saw Jared standing beside Brooke, I'm confused.
"Kristy, can I speak with you for a moment?" Jared asks me while motioning towards the hallway I was just staring at. He turns to Brooke, "I'll be right back, sweetie."
I walk over to the hallway and make sure no one can see us, "What's up, Jared?"
Jared gets real close to my face, close enough that someone might think we were about to kiss if they could see us, "I know what you do, and you aren't going to do it here. If you try, I will find you and kill you with my bare hands."
I backed up into the wall, not realizing that the wall was so close, "What do you mean?"
"I mean, Kristy, that I know that isn't your real name and you are here to kill Brooke. You've killed 30 different newlywed wives in the past year and at least 12 newlywed husbands. You," he jabs his finger into my chest, "are not going to harm Brooke. Not a hair on her head will be out of place, or I will be forced to hurt you in ways you can't possibly imagine."
The menacing words took root and scared me to my core. Had I really killed that many people? The guilt ate away at me.
"Do you think I enjoy doing this? Do you think I actually want to do this? Because I don't. I actually cared about those families I befriended before killing one of those spouses. I had to kill them. This is my job. I would love nothing more than to let Brooke and you for that matter, go free and enjoy your wedding and honeymoon, but I can't. I am forced to do this or I will be hurt. All those families I hurt, I wanted to save them, but I can't. I tried to, you know, save them. The first person I was told to kill. I tried to save them. I gave them some money and fake passports to escape their fate, but do you know what happened? Someone else killed them. They made it look like a freak accident and then they found me and beat me nearly into a coma. I was hospitalized for months, and I had physical therapy for months after that. My body is covered in scars from that one time," at this point Jared had backed off enough that he actually had a look of remorse or pity on his face.
"The guilt of all of that death, all of my friends eats at me every damn day. I can't go a single moment where I don't hear echoes of a gunshot or the cries for their loved one on what is supposed to be the happiest day of their lives. I don't want to do this, but I have to."

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 2

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