A Furious Chick

Even The Strongest Are Breakable

Katherine

The vehicle stopped outside of a fancy house with freshly cut grass and a clean pool. I frowned deeply as everyone piled out.

"Do you remember this?" Letty asked me.

"Why would I need to? Obviously whoever lives here thinks they're a damn Kardashian. Obnoxious." I shrugged.

"And you just described yourself perfectly." Kaleb nodded.

I rolled my eyes and was taken inside. Holy fuck. There was a white plush carpet in the living room with black velvet couches and the kitchen had marble tiles and countertops. I raised my eyebrows in disgust.

"Are you kidding me?" I asked.

"I made you add white. You wanted everything black." Brian told me.

Upstairs, the master bedroom was large with a big bed in the middle of the room and a fireplace with a television. On the wall behind the bed was a painted portrait of me and Brian on our wedding day.

"I had my dad and Alina paint that not too long ago." Brian nodded. "Wanted to surprise you."

"Can't be surprised when I don't even remember anything." I sighed.

Brian's eyes dropped. Then I went to the triplets room. Another painting. But it wasn't colorful or anything. It had three babies, barely ready for birth. Sonogram photos. Out of no where, I saw three fresh babies in my arms and I was smiling at them. I was proud.

"Remembering anything?" Alina asked me.

I debated telling them that I did in fact remember holding triplets in my arms. But then they would sit there and strive upon it. Drag it until the end of time. I'd rather wait until I knew more...felt more.

"No. Nothing." I cleared my throat. "Design is nice, great details. Should become an artist."

Brian's eyes dropped low.

I walked downstairs and walked as quickly as I can out the door. I needed air. Fresh air. The air in California was heavy with tanning lotion smells and salt water. I somewhat missed Russia. I sat on the lawn. The team probably thought it would be best if they kept their distance because they left me out there, unbothered. I wanted to be alone. I wanted to think.

It seems as though I am a talented assassin. And it seems as though many people care for me personally. And as I sat there, a feeling waved over me. A feeling of shame and hatred towards my own self because if I am so gifted with combat skills and I have people to fight for, children that I must live for....how did I let my brain and my thoughts and my identity get infiltrated in the first place?