Maine.

I started a marathon of deads in four years.

With Maine, we crossed all the United States just to kill a bunch of people. He never told me why the agency wanted me to touch this people and not another, and I never asked.

 

 

 

 

 

Once in Las Vegas, he just help me to fit into a Lido style dancer costum, without the topless and tong type, he pushed me on stage after colored my hair in a kind of pink and he just said : « Two steps on the right, three on the left, you turn, you touch the lady in front of you and you come back in pas chassé…you get it ? Tu as compris ?! ». I nodded, and I proved by doing it.

Maine was my dark absolut master. If he told me jump out of this bridge, now !, I would done it ! Just like that !

 

 

We became a old couple, Bonnie and Clyde without the sexualty. I was the shooter, he was the driver. I was very close to him but in some opposite way, far enough to not cross the line a seconde time.

With him, my crimes had taste of  challenge. Because his glances always asked me if I was going to put off, with cynicism ! Bloody bastard !!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

« I don’t think I can do it here, now…everybody look at us !! » I told him once when we were walking thru in Time Square, in the middle of a crowd. « Nobody look at us, nobody cares in New York ! Calm down, feather !! he answered me in a agressive whisper.

-         Don’t call me feather !! I have a name !

-         When you are working, you have no name…Feather !

-         Va te faire foutre!

-         Not today honey ! » and then, he slap my butt with his big black fat male hand. I turned and look at him, with rage. « I have no gloves…don’t push me !

-         Or what ? Tu vas me tuer ?!

-         I could, dear…avec juste un doigt ! » and I pointed my middle red nail finger to his attention. I looked around. Nobody noticed it. A white girl figthing verbaly with a black man…If none of us scream, nobody should care, not in New York, not in Los Angeles either…not of people business. Finally, I decided to take care of mine. Maine undestood that, he felt the moment when I was ready to work at least.

When you got a job to do, you got to do it well…

« Leave and let die ! » he yelled a little when I started moving over. Surprised ! Like he read my thoughts. But I was in the mood for the last sentence before the acomplishement of my destiny. « I promise, I’ll let you die, crétin !

-         I have you word ! ». I smiled, he smiled. A insane father, with his sociopath daughter playing base ball in the middle of the dream come true country. It gave me strongness to bite the big Apple, again. I walked straight, high head, moved my ass like a nympho (thanks to Nelly Furtado) and brushed the uncover hand of my target. Smoothly, gently, deadly. I was far in front, Maine was far in back, when the beautiful young man, that I touched, fell down in the middle of the street of the indifferent empire state capital.

I stopped by a hot dog peddler, the only good street hot dog in the United State, asked innocently for a pretzel, no cigarett in public during the day because I was still too young for that and I stared at the ambulance lights with a pity face. My target had the skin so sweet, it was torture to still feel him on my arsh dry hand. Maine joined me and told the peddler that the check was on him. Liar !!

I’ll pay the check for that one day…not so far from now, I know !

 

 

But at this moment, in the shopping city, I was just glad to have somebody holding my shoulder, someone who let me put my head on his chest (I learned accidentaly that my hair was not infected, a kind of strange miracle) and walked like I have someone I can use when I want, at least, feel more human. He was still nice and patient with me even after I killed another non consentante person. He played with my bad temper for my pleasure. He called me his contagious princess.

 

 

 

 

 

I learned to love him without desire him, without wanted to touch him…I never ever, not a second, wished to touch his sugar chocolate paternel skin. He impressed me to much to even think about falling in love with my mentor, and I was too dangerous for him to forget himself in mine.