The Journey Forward--Part 10

Her index finger glided over the trigger while her other fingers slid easily into the grooves of the butt of the gun. Its weight was comforting as she raised her arm. It felt like it belonged in her hand.

She aimed it at the leader’s chest. She would not let him kill Heero. Relena pulled the trigger. She watched him fall to the floor, watched his eyes close for the final time, and watched him take his last breath with complete detachment.

“I didn’t know it could be so easy,” she stated. “It was so easy.”

“Give me the gun, Relena.”

She glanced from the body of the leader to Heero to the gun. It looked so right in her hand. “No.”

She glanced back to the leader. But now it was Quatre who was dead at her feet. Her hand shook as she stared in horror at the body of her dead friend. “Is he dead?” she asked, panic creeping into her voice.

“Yes.” Heero moved closer to her. “Relena, give me the gun.”

“No,” she cried, closing her eyes. When she opened them, it was Noin who was now dead. Her sister’s-in-law pale face was a study in agony. Her gray eyes were haunting as they stared blankly up at Relena in accusation.

“Give me the gun, Relena.”

“No,” she whispered as sobs began to rake her body. Milliardo took Noin’s place at her feet. One hand was stretched out toward her as if begging her to stop. But she hadn’t stopped. She had fired the gun anyway.

She had killed him. She had killed them all. Who would she kill next?

“Now, Relena,” Heero ordered, grabbing the gun.

“No!” she cried. Then the gun fired. She watched in horror as a hole appeared in Heero’s chest. For a moment, everything froze. Then blood began to pour from the hole, creating a red river down his shirt. Falling to the floor, he gasped her name.

“NO!” This couldn’t be happening. She had done it to protect him, to save him. Now she had killed him. She had killed her brother. She had killed them all.

She had killed. She had taken a life, now lives. She was a murderer.

Red blood was on her hands, coating her hands. The sick sweet metallic smell overwhelmed her. Blood was all around her and on her and in her.

She had killed.

The gun was still in her hand, now warm in her hand. It felt alive in her hand. It begged her to be used.

She had killed.

She had just wanted to protect Heero. The leader was going to kill him and then her. She would give her life to save Heero. Her morals should be an easy sacrifice.

She had killed.

The gun was still in her hand. Blood was everywhere. It had been so easy to spill.

“I didn’t know it was so easy,” she whispered.

“So easy,” a voice groaned. “Look, Relena, at what you have done.”

She was compelled to look down at her feet and there was Quatre. Though dead, he glared at her in accusation. “Look at what you’ve done, Relena!”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

“You’re sorry?” Noin mocked, taking Quatre’s place. “Sorry changes nothing, Relena!”

“But I’m sorry,” she protested. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“You have soiled the Peacecraft name,” Milliardo stated, pulling away from her disgust. “You, the beacon of pacifism, have killed. Hypocrite!”

“I’m sorry!”

“Look at what you’ve done!” Heero ordered, suddenly standing before her. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the hole in his chest. No more blood emerged from the dark spot in his pale, cold skin. “You did this.”

“I didn’t mean to,” she whispered, tears blurring her vision. “I was trying to protect you.”

“But you didn’t. You killed me. You did this!”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“Murderer!”

“I’m sorry!” She was sobbing openly now. “I’m sorry.”

“Murderer!” The voices of Quatre, Noin, and Milliardo now joined Heero’s in the cry. “Murderer!”

Again she raised the gun. She fired it again and again, now willfully shooting her friends. Anything to stop their voices, their accusations. “I’m sorry!” she cried with each shot.

But the voices continued. “Murderer! Hypocrite! Liar!”

“I’m sorry!” Falling to her knees, she cradled the gun to her chest. Her friends began to circle her, pointing cold, dead fingers at her as they continued their horrible chant. “I’m so sorry!”

Then she turned the gun on herself.


Part X Her index finger glided over the trigger while her other fingers slid easily into the grooves of the butt of the gun. Its weight was comforting as she raised her arm. It felt like it belonged in her hand. She aimed it at the leader’s chest. She would not let him kill Heero. Relena pulled the trigger. She watched him fall to the floor, watched his eyes close for the final time, and watched him take his last breath with complete detachment. “I didn’t know it could be so easy,” she stated. “It was so easy.” “Give me the gun, Relena.” She glanced from the body of the leader to Heero to the gun. It looked so right in her hand. “No.” She glanced back to the leader. But now it was Quatre who was dead at her feet. Her hand shook as she stared in horror at the body of her dead friend. “Is he dead?” she asked, panic creeping into her voice. “Yes.” Heero moved closer to her. “Relena, give me the gun.” “No,” she cried, closing her eyes. When she opened them, it was Noin who was now dead. Her sister’s-in-law pale face was a study in agony. Her gray eyes were haunting as they stared blankly up at Relena in accusation. “Give me the gun, Relena.” “No,” she whispered as sobs began to rake her body. Milliardo took Noin’s place at her feet. One hand was stretched out toward her as if begging her to stop. But she hadn’t stopped. She had fired the gun anyway. She had killed him. She had killed them all. Who would she kill next? “Now, Relena,” Heero ordered, grabbing the gun. “No!” she cried. Then the gun fired. She watched in horror as a hole appeared in Heero’s chest. For a moment, everything froze. Then blood began to pour from the hole, creating a red river down his shirt. Falling to the floor, he gasped her name. “NO!” This couldn’t be happening. She had done it to protect him, to save him. Now she had killed him. She had killed her brother. She had killed them all. She had killed. She had taken a life, now lives. She was a murderer. Red blood was on her hands, coating her hands. The sick sweet metallic smell overwhelmed her. Blood was all around her and on her and in her. She had killed. The gun was still in her hand, now warm in her hand. It felt alive in her hand. It begged her to be used. She had killed. She had just wanted to protect Heero. The leader was going to kill him and then her. She would give her life to save Heero. Her morals should be an easy sacrifice. She had killed. The gun was still in her hand. Blood was everywhere. It had been so easy to spill. “I didn’t know it was so easy,” she whispered. “So easy,” a voice groaned. “Look, Relena, at what you have done.” She was compelled to look down at her feet and there was Quatre. Though dead, he glared at her in accusation. “Look at what you’ve done, Relena!” “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you!” “You’re sorry?” Noin mocked, taking Quatre’s place. “Sorry changes nothing, Relena!” “But I’m sorry,” she protested. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” “You have soiled the Peacecraft name,” Milliardo stated, pulling away from her disgust. “You, the beacon of pacifism, have killed. Hypocrite!” “I’m sorry!” “Look at what you’ve done!” Heero ordered, suddenly standing before her. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the hole in his chest. No more blood emerged from the dark spot in his pale, cold skin. “You did this.” “I didn’t mean to,” she whispered, tears blurring her vision. “I was trying to protect you.” “But you didn’t. You killed me. You did this!” “I didn’t mean to.” “Murderer!” “I’m sorry!” She was sobbing openly now. “I’m sorry.” “Murderer!” The voices of Quatre, Noin, and Milliardo now joined Heero’s in the cry. “Murderer!” Again she raised the gun. She fired it again and again, now willfully shooting her friends. Anything to stop their voices, their accusations. “I’m sorry!” she cried with each shot. But the voices continued. “Murderer! Hypocrite! Liar!” “I’m sorry!” Falling to her knees, she cradled the gun to her chest. Her friends began to circle her, pointing cold, dead fingers at her as they continued their horrible chant. “I’m so sorry!” Then she turned the gun on herself.


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