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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Death · #2113497
The pain of someone's lies.
The spy advised her to forget what had happened that day but it could never be forgotten.
It has been six months since that spy told me to forget. I have tried but that was six months ago and this is now. I cannot forget and I cannot forgive. It is time to fix what is supposed to be forgotten.

Six months ago my uncle, the man who raised me, was killed in front of my eyes. The spy who killed him told me he was not a good man and the things he had done would have destroyed our country and everyone in it. He told me that my uncle, the man who was my father, was one of the worst men our country had ever seen and what the spy did would save hundreds of thousands of lives.

In my heart I want that spy to be wrong but deep down deeper than I want to admit, I feel he is right. My uncle had been absent for months before the spy, not only going on many trips but also lost in his thoughts whenever he was home. I kept telling myself that it had to do with his job at the museum and he was picking up artifacts for the new exhibit they announced the other day on the TV. There is a lot of stress talking to different customs and officials from around the world. I think deep down I knew that was something more. He never acted like this before. He never acted cagey and distant.

Part of me wants to find that spy and make him pay for what he did to the last person I cared about left alive. Part of me wants to find that spy just to find out the truth. I need to know the truth no matter how hard it will be knowing.

In my three month investigation I learnt the truth. The truth the spy was trying to tell me but I choose not to listen. The truth that I knew deep in my heart. My uncle was a different kind of spy. With hatred that filled his heart until he was consumed.

I learnt that he never did work for a museum, he was always the leader for a horrible group trying to end our country’s way of life. I never did learn their cause or even who they were. I think it scared me too much to dig any further. I quit after learning the truth about who he was.

Standing over my uncles, my guardian’s grave, thinking about all I had learnt about who he really was. I have decided to forget the horrible and remember the man I had loved.

I never did find that spy. I think now that I know the truth I will do as he advised, forget that day, and forget everything I should have left alone in the first place.
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