REMEMBER ME

Scars…

My scars defined me. They made me who I am today.

They live within me and I grew attached to them. They are the only one that I have.

When I first got them, I feel pathetic. I feel uncommon when people stared at me and whispered among themselves. They pitied me.

“I am glad that I don’t have them.”

“They are scary.”

Those were common comments which were used when they see me.

They say ‘scary’.

I wonder if they actually know what is scary or what it feels to be scared. Living with their family in a nice warm house, going out on dates, enjoying with friends and having a stable life aren’t scary at all. It is perfect human life. Yet they use the word scary quite often.

I guess its human tendency to use words which they never mean literally.

It seems amusing but in our world we have to use every single syllable carefully. Every word has its own literal meaning and own consequences. It can make you or completely destroy you.

My world is solitaire; far away from human interactions yet amidst of them. Usually people see me but they choose to ignore. Well, who wants to acknowledge the person whose face is least visible? Or who don’t talk at all? It must take few seconds to forget about me as I pass by them into the dark ally.

But it is helpful in my work line. The less they know the better.

Wondering about my whereabouts? There is one word that might satisfy your quest.

Assassin.

Yes, I am the one who gets employed for killing, obviously for the sake of money.

No one knows about this, because I work as a cleaner in the nearby café. Of course it is a façade and disguise job for me which keeps me off the radar.

Another thing about me that makes me less suspicious is me being an orphan. Though the latter one is true and people from my work seem to pity me for that. They know my name, my parents died in an accident which gave me scars on my skin and made me an introvert as well.

This is a perfect plot to begin with, isn’t it? The more I think about it, the more I like my disguise job and life.

My phone rang beside me. I don’t have to check the caller ID as the only person who would call me in the middle of the night is David. He’s my contractor or you can say manager. He brings the job for me from the clients.

“Time for work, Siri.” He answered. We don’t exchange the common greetings but rather we get directly to the business part.

“Send the info.” I said and hung up.

That’s it. Our conversation is usually of one to four lines. I can’t say that we are close but we are business partners. He knows few things about me but never bothers me unnecessarily. He is all business and that’s why we are comfortable around each other. We have known each other from past three years and we both excel in our field. He provides the info and money while I execute the plan. But we are merely the pawns. There is company which hires the assassin though their manager. I and David are the employees. The company works underground and is hard to locate. I am quite sure no one has hint about it. The leaders often need to eliminate their opponents in the elections so they are the members as well. And maybe that’s why it is still hidden.

The company has its own protocol in this business. Every client along with the assassin is bound to follow it. It says that the killer should be provided with as much as information about the victim but not about the client. The client identity remains anonymous and safe but the client has to transfer sixty percent of the promised amount to the given account before the work and the rest after the work done. There would be no communication between the assassin and the client whatsoever. Our intermediate is the manager who gets the twenty five percent of the amount.

But the most important rule is the code of silence that must not be broken by the three parties. The company worships honesty and loyalty but if someone is found selling information about the company, then things get stirred up and the person is dead under abnormal circumstances.

The Company; the name itself is sufficient. The boss of the company goes by the name Sin. That’s all we know about him, we don’t know his age or what does he look like yet he allot us to different task. I never bothered to look into his matter, I am happy as long as I get the money without being caught.

The phone beeped with e-mail.

It was the bio data of the victim. It was the woman in late fifties. Lim Yuri, fifty seven year old lady and wife of Dong So Yong, chairman of Shin Hwa group of companies. Then it was her photos taken from different angles on different occasions, and then there were photos of their house in the Wongduong district. It was a beautiful house which shows off money and power. As per the reports Shin Hwa was the leading company in South Korea.

Then there were some personal details about her. She has two sons, studying abroad and visits two times once in a year. Then there is a house keeper, Do Bok Sang and two other maids living in the house with the lady and his husband.

At the end of the e-mail, a seven figure amount as the payment was mentioned. It was a good catch, though.

I dialed the number.

“So, you want this job.” David said. He must be typing something vigorously as it was easily audible in the background. He must be hacking someone’s system again. One of his hobbies turn passion.

“Yes, it’s an easy one.” I answered back. I took out the bottle from the refrigerator and gulped out down mouthful of water. “I’ll need my equipments soon.”

“Yeah, about that; there is special request by the client.” He continued. “They want to make it look like a natural death. They say it would be handier. ”

“Natural death? as in, suicide?” I asked as I looked at the lady’s picture again. As any other high society women she was wearing heavy makeup and an expensive business suit with a plastered smile.

“Not exactly, just know that she has asthma. She’s been taking the medication for five years. It won’t be hard to make it look like asthma attack.” He said.

“Is it her husband that wants her dead?” I asked out of curiosity.

“Perhaps, you know how it works in high societies but we don’t need to know that. Just make it look clean; they don’t want any investigation or cops. The details of the house are given in the e-mail.” The typing noise stopped. He must be done by now.

“Yeah, I’ve seen it. But I need a week to complete the job.” I informed him. “There will some event coming along this weekend at the café and I need to show my face there too.”

He paused for a moment. “You still do the cleaner job.”

“Yeah” I replied.

“I’ll talk to them, though they didn’t mention anything about the task duration but I am sure they were in haste to get rid of the lady.”

“How can you say that?” I asked. For the first time in the three years, our conversation was being incredibly long. We were actually talking, might be because of the special request added to the killing.

“I had a meeting with Taka; he said the party wanted to get this job done as soon as possible. He too didn’t mention the duration though.” He said and let out breath. He must have done his typing work.

“Taka? Is he still there? I thought he went to Busan Central Jail.”

“He was back two days ago.” He answered.

“Okay, just talk to him and tell we’ll take the job.”

With this we finally hung up. This was an unusually long conversation.

I looked at the clock on my nightstand, it was two already and I had work tomorrow.

“Ajhhushi, will you please step aside?” the man who was in front of the counter got startled at my voice. I was at the work, cleaning the floor and the counters. We had to start our day earlier than usual time. Our boss, Park Min Suk, and the owner of the café was about to have a meeting with the chairperson of Moonshine Malls. He wanted to expand his business so he decided to open another café in Moonshine Malls. It was a good investment and if the meeting goes well then it would make a huge profit.

It was eight thirty in the morning and there was only one customer in the café. It was early and to be frank I wasn’t expecting someone at this hour. Usually the café gets filled by nine fifteen.