Colette Nowa II

Chapter I: Who Am I?

Death can be perceived as a thought of endearment. The brave look at death as an honor, while the reconciled look at death as a loss. In pursuit of control, the freedoms of the individual are limited in the thought of death. Yet, there's a secret to life with death. Heaven devours us in everyday life, so innocent and sweet. With the thoughts that we have, one does not know death at all; but, perhaps in the end, there is a solution towards death, a new beginning.

Madness - is it good? Or is it wrong? Colette Nowa thought to herself in her brand new apartment. The furnishing was awfully old, but Raphael promised her that it would change at once.

It was a Tuesday morning, and she was unemployed, feeling as if she could not achieve anything. She had applied to several odd jobs in bartending, retail, waitressing with no results. A small string of hope was given to her, but she had to learn how to tie the knots.

Colette realized that she found her lover, Raphael, but at what cost? Were the passions, the mysteries, and the lies worth it?

In the past, he was using various invisibility cloaks to not pester her during her university, a material that only DIA and CIA agents could extricate when spying on others. Colette had no idea.

The CIA was its own government within the United States. Materials and weapons that no one could understand were utilized to somehow defend democracy yet infiltrate privacy, disproving democratic principles. Yet, Raphael was as loyal to her as he was to the CIA. He needed her more than anything. There was a past that could never be exchanged between them.

It was a late lazy Sunday afternoon where the sun shone through the blinds displaying long feathers on the floor, fixating on the light Colette thought:

Does he only date me because my dad was a spy?

Colette was still in bed. As she got up from the bed in her fluffy lavender pajamas, she asked Raphael directly. Her black ombre purple hair was in a mess.

"Are you only dating me because my dad is a spy?" She quivered. Sharing her thoughts required some sort of bravery. Communicating unnecessary feelings and thoughts was bravery in her terms.

He looked sad at first, but he grinned afterward. "Honey, I only date you for you. You are worth more than any creature that has ever walked on this Earth to me. Do you know how much I love you?"

He paused. "It's greater than any miracle that you have ever possessed."

"Thank you, Raphael." She kissed him.

The soothing of her voice settled in his heart. He loved her voice more than anything. It was a ringing tone that he wanted to hear as frequently as possible, more impressionable to him than the high strings of a guitar or the violins echoing in the setting as cymbals strike.

"Now, why don't we have some tea." She said in a British accent to make Raphael laugh.

From time to time, the girl imitated Raphael's fake but decently perfect accent. He had practiced his accent in front of her for his espionage in Great Britain.

He smiled at her but did not laugh. His work became a priority. But, he was not blinded by the government. He kept his head high like a black horse.

Was being a spy just an imitation of another figurative persona or a disorder of multiple personalities?  Nobody knew.

An addiction, it was to put on personas for the two lovers, pretending to be someone else when they were just two fools like any other ordinary people. Colette must have received some hereditary traits from her father. He was a spy as well, after all.