For Part 1 – click here.
The train came to a halt.
It was 2 AM. Right on schedule. 2:05 and we would be on our way.
I was restless. I had to be. I had approximately two hours left to complete my job and I was having second thoughts.
I got up and walked towards the rear exit. All was quiet. And peaceful.
It was a funny feeling, you know? I should be scared out of my wits but instead, I was feeling…clear…like some sort of clarity was forming inside my head.
All my life, I had been on the run. From something or the other. I had always been afraid for my safety. You know, being a woman in the Middle East and all that. You kind of hate the West, the Europeans…basically you hate everyone who might even be remotely connected to your suffering. Even if they themselves had nothing to do with it. America bombed us. So we hated the entire bunch. And also the Europeans who sent all these weapons to kill us, kill our families, kill our children.
No. I should not think about that.
But more than these foreign pests who had destroyed our economy, I hated the fanatics who ruled over us. Oh yes. I wanted revenge.
I was seething again. Oh blimey. This wasn’t good. Whenever I got mad, I got really, really reckless. And I was getting really, really mad.
My mother used to say that’s why I had red, flaming hair – to match my temper. Perhaps she was right.
It was time for me – the Angel from hell to deliver justice to the one who had ruined everything I had held close to my heart.
For more…wait for part 3!