She has passed where I cannot follow, and it isn’t by a hand that did it for spite, not by a hand that did it for fun. No, it was done by a hand that every day showed her that love. A hand that in bad times comforted her, a hand full of deceit and lies, pain and suffering. No matter how many excuses I make, it does not forgive what I have done. The money is no excuse either. I did it, and I will make myself, in one way or another, pay for this, whether it be by myself, or by those I have worked for. Whatever the case may be, I will take my anger out on myself for once, and not others.

I was, as you would guess, an assassin making four-point-two million a year. And if lucky, I would get a big job like a politician and get five. I wasn’t hired by a secret society or by a gang. It was from the government that I got the job and took it with no questions asked.

So I had been doing it for about three years and was amazing at what I did. I was twenty-five when I met her. She was the big voice of an organization that was greatly opposed to the governments rulings. I tried to convince her to lay low, pretending to act like I had heard about killings of people who opposed the government, which I had. But that made her all the more eager to speak out against them. So there I was, in the middle of a hushed up war, but none the less a war. One side led the cause to bring corruption down, the other side was just trying to quiet the rioters as they were called. And me, I had my own side, and it was get rich while both sides were fighting, one with words, the other with me.

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