I stand gazing, admiringly, at the magnificently resplendent figure reflected in the mirror. Myself. Not that I am a narcissist, but I look unusually beautiful. There is a strange glow in my face, and sparkle in my eyes, and not from the lighting alone. I am shining brilliantly in the brightest moment of my life. I snap out of my self obsessed reverie as I become aware of the appreciative murmurs around me. All those who helped me get dressed for this most important day of my life stand around, mumbling in appreciative wonderment. I allow myself a small forbidden smile. After all, today I am allowed all liberties. A hush soon descends in the room. I turn around to see my mentor striding towards me, beaming with pride. He walks up to me, kisses my forehead and says “You are the brightest star tonight, the blessed one. No one is more beautiful than a ……. ”.
The man who is to take me to the most important event of my life is waiting at the door. He is a senior diplomat, with a glorious past with the army, and now a close aide of the president. He is, I am proud to say quite a crucial catch. As I walk out to meet him, I see a look of wonderment, bordering on worship. I can almost hear him thanking lady luck for smiling down upon him, and making him the “chosen one” for me. I smile to myself, thinking how wrong he has it. I am the chosen one, not him.
As we drive down to the venue, he can hardly keep his eyes on the road. And as we reach, he finally regains his voice, to whisper a compliment in my ear. I smile, as he takes my hand, and leads me inside. His rank ensures that we are not delayed by cumbersome security measures, given the highly sensitive location. Just a few necessary checks and he brushes away the rest, eager to impress me tonight. As we walk in, many heads swivel in our direction, and I can sense his pride and sense of possessiveness growing with every step.
And then a sudden hush, as from the opposite end, descends the reason I am here today. The President himself, escorting his ever so elegant wife. They are the reason everyone is here at the presidential palace tonight, to celebrate the Sovereign Day of the state. They are the reason why so many high profile diplomats and ambassadors are gathered under one roof. They are the reason I am the “chosen one”. Chosen to destroy them all.
I am a suicide bomber, walking on the path of self destruction to make this degenerate society aware of the will of god. I am a truly confident person, fearing nothing, bolstered by the words of my mentor “No one is more beautiful than a martyr, and no one is more complete. You my child are closer to god than ever before.” These words flow along with my blood in my veins, versions of which were chanted to me since early childhood. They were my inspiration to pray for a chance, and I was now blessed, about to fulfill my rightful destiny.
My date, unaware of my intentions, totally mesmerized by my beauty, charm and wit, presses forward to greet the President. As he contemplates introducing me, he unwittingly takes me closer to my targets. As my moment of reckoning approaches, I can feel adrenaline pumping through my body like never before. I finger the strands of pearls around my neck, imbedded with explosives.
The Presidents turns with a broad smile to greet us, as I prepare to press the detonator in the clasp of my necklace….
I suddenly feel a hand tugging at my dress near my knee. My mind goes blank....did i press the trigger already?? Am i dead? No I cant be...I can still feel the tugging.
I look down into a pair of the bluest eyes ever.
The Presidents toddler daughter had escaped the nursery and her nanny, to meet her parents.
The child is beautiful, and she brings in her world of innocence into my world...of religion, of revenge, of violence. I look into her eyes, and see my lost childhood reflected in them. is that to be regained by robbing hers? my confidence is shattered, my action undecided...
But can I turn back now??