Guardian of the Night

I stabbed someone’s mother; I am not sure how I feel about my line of work. The death was somewhat painless and quiet. Putting dissolving tablets in her drink and puncturing her lung with something as silly as a push pin. Good thing she wasn’t a heavy woman, I wouldn’t have been able to lift her on the side as easily if that were the case.

Again, I am not sure how I feel about my line of work, there isn’t any sort of promotion or praise. All this job comes with is a path of loneliness and endless suffering depending on the gig. This one just made me sick to my stomach, but her husband gave me about a quarter million to end his wife’s life. The picture he gave me of her was a family photo.

His wife had a very successful business, and this made him feel inadequate as a man. The photo showed his one son and the parents on a summer vacation. They were all laughing and giving the impression of a false idea of a “fun loving family.” Their son was the only one in that picture that was genuine and excited to be with his parents. Looking closer at the photo, you can tell both parents secretly loathed one another’s existence.

The mother’s half smile showed her disdain for her cold husband and the father’s avoiding gaze toward his wife and instead grinning at his son; the photo was very telling. The husband wanted his wife out of his life for very typical selfish intentions; he wanted his wife’s money. The husband was dressed so professionally for someone who cleans puke off floors for a living. He was clean cut and in a new looking suite, this was probably purchased with the assistance of his wife.

This man made my stomach lurch, and he sickened me with his reasons why he wanted his wife gone. He wanted to take on her fortune and escape to Chicago with his son. He went on and on about how he was an artist who felt no one could appreciate his work here in Massachusetts. He could live out his days painting and going to art exhibits; he glorified himself as if he was some sort of God.

He told me he would just inform his son, his mom died of stress from the business and would assure him that Chicago would be a better life for them. I am not allowed to show any sign of disgust or disappointment on my face at all, it’s just code. Due to this code, I cover myself in a ski-mask, so the only thing revealed is my eyes. I preferred this so I not only seem ominous, but sometimes these requests can get unreasonably gruesome or unbelievably moronic.

This husband was one of those moronic examples. He explained to me how he wanted his wife to die painlessly, but in a way that was an unusual accident. He told me to be creative just by his description alone. I went with the pin route because usually no one can really figure out how it happens or find any sort of evidence. Maybe her lung was slowly collapsing, and no one knew? Could’ve been a freak accident, it’s hard to tell.

The husband failed to tell me one very important detail. His son was home and noticed me leaving after the job was done. I was halfway through the window, when I noticed a pair of bright blue eyes and disheveled hair. He was wearing dinosaur pajamas and his feet could be heard from a mile away due to carelessly stomping around the hardwood floors.

The child didn’t scream or start blubbering about who I was, he just stared at me, as if I were some sort of shiny new bicycle. He sat down on the floor, and I followed his actions and sat on the edge of the windowsill. Continuing silence lingered and it was starting to become very uncomfortable. The boy finally broke the silence by asking me a very bizarre question I was not prepared for.

“Are you an angel Miss?” His raspy small voice pierced through me; this was unheard of. Me? An angel? Does this kid not realize what I did to his mother? I panicked and answered with what I felt was suitable for a child. This situation had to be handled delicately.

“Why, yes, I am. I suppose I am also a ninja as well. An…angel ninja.” I pointed to my ski-mask and the boy’s pupils began to expand. The mere thought of me being more than just an angel must have been too much for his little mind to handle. He smiled at me with one tooth missing in the front and I had to pretend as though this didn't melt my heart.

The innocence of this child is something that disheartened me slightly. Despite my work, children are something that I always had a soft spot for. The boy began to ask me a barrage of questions due to him discovering my “identity.”

“When did you become an angel? Can angels be ninjas? How does that even work? How long have you been a ninja angel?” The little boy’s questions made me feel much worse about my job. I didn’t have the heart to tell him about his mom or what his father instructed me to do. The boy’s questions suddenly stopped asking me questions and looked at his mom’s lifeless body.

He got up from the floor and walked over to his mom’s bed. The boy examined his mother’s expression, which was in a peaceful rest state. He lifted his mom’s arm, and her hand was limp. He gently placed his mom's arm on her bed and pet it gently. He looked at me and a change in emotion was apparent.

“My mommy is in heaven now huh. She was a nice mommy, but she had to go away to heaven?” A lump formed in my throat, why was I feeling this way? I do this for a living, and I never feel emotional afterward. I block it out of my mind and collect the money. I suppose this situation is unique, it’s something that I had to experience firsthand.

The boy’s face suddenly lit up. This very rapid change in mood bewildered me. “My mommy said that sometimes daddy does bad things and if he ever did anything to grab the treasure map. Hold on ninja angel! I will show you it!”

The boy flew out of the bedroom, and I could hear him rummaging through a drawer of some sort. I heard hard plastic hit the floor, I heard a cat meowing and then a shriek of excitement. This boy is taking this very well, it’s almost like this is not real. As I waited for the boy to return, I began to wonder what this “treasure map”?

Did his mother know she was going to die and accepted her fate? Was this her plan all along? What will become of her business? Most importantly, why do I care so much?

The pattering of feet came from down the hall and entered the bedroom. The boy was waving around a thick stack of papers that I thought he would drop. He handed them over to me with excitement, he was almost bouncing in place. I read the following words: “Will to the fortune…” As I continued to read the said treasure map, I began to feel a wave of relief and I felt as though I had done something right for once.

She knew her scumbag of a husband was planning to have her killed in some way and she had already decided to ruin his life. There was more to the stack such as phone numbers for family members who will take care of her son and a letter explaining that her husband is to blame.

I gave the stack back to the boy and informed him he should call 9-1-1 and say his dad is someone they need to talk to. I also told the boy to let the police officers see the “treasure map” and they can find his dad from there. The boy looked up at me and smiled, unaware of what was happening around him. “Thank you, Miss Ninja Angel, you really are the coolest.”

I waved at him goodbye, and he ran to the window and watched me leave. This particular job was not something was something special and a pleasant surprise, but for once I am overjoyed with how everything came to be.