- Airplane boarding pass
- A business card (in another language)
- A random key
- A crumpled up piece of paper
- A valet parking ticket
I looked at these items trying to figure out what went on last night. I fell on the bed wincing as my head hit the pillow (more like a one-ply tissue). What did I do? I close my eyes trying to remember what I did last night. My mind was a blank and my head hurt, I just wanted to sleep. I tried to close my eyes and sleep but that didn't work all too well. Small bursts of pain accompanied this and all I could think of was what happened. Sitting up I decided to give each item a good look to see if I could recollect anything.
I started with the business card. It was stiff which made me think it was expensive. It was black with silver writing on it. I ran my hand over it and instantly my mind went back to last night, but all I could make out of it was a blurry nighttime background and a blurry man standing in front of me. I looked at the card, the soft yet rigid texture was what brought back the memory of last night. I continued to examine the card. I flipped it over, nothing but a small logo on the back. I looked closer, an ellipse with a picture of a key inside of it. I flipped it back over and decided to examine the words. The words were written in what seemed like calligraphy, it was very beautiful. It seemed like it was written in French. Looking at the words I put them together to spell 'La Ville de la Loi'. I whispered it under my breath and the same memory popped in my head, this time it was clearer though. I was in a city, sitting at a table outside of a cafe. Looking to my right I see cars passing by and a lot of foot traffic. I look in front of me and see a man with black hair. He had electric blue eyes and freckles grazing across his cheeks. He had a slight chiseled look; overall he was handsome. He smiled at me with his straight white teeth and said something that seemed to be in French. I must have been in France! Why was I in France though? I put the card down and picked up the next object.
I picked up the airplane boarding pass in hopes of discovering where I was going. I ran my fingers across the smooth and shiny paper. It was white and black and had a type of bar code off to the left and all of my information regarding my flight. I examined the boarding pass to find out I traveled from the Philadelphia International Airport to an airport in Paris, France! I continued to examine the pass. Terminal E, gate 13, departing time 7:30 AM, row 9A. As I read this information small flashbacks ran through my mind. I strung together the flashbacks and discovered that I seemed to be on a business trip. I was dressed in business casual, carried a briefcase, and seemed to have an important agenda in mind (though I cannot remember what this was)! I remember taking off into the sky and hours later arriving at an airport in Paris. After leaving the plane and gathering my luggage the last thing I remember is calling for a taxi and getting in. I placed the airplane boarding pass down and picked up the next object.
I picked up the valet parking ticket. It was shaped like a pentagon but smooth around the edges. It said Paris up top and the number 613 right below it. When I saw the number a flashback hit me. I had somehow managed to obtain a very expensive looking car. I pulled up and got out of the car handing the valet my key. I began to walk up to a museum looking building. The flashback ended there. I felt the paper, it was smooth and thin. It was white with black glossy print. I put the valet parking ticket down and reached for the next object.
I picked up the key and held it in my palm. I flipped it over, feeling the cold metal against my skin. It was the color of brass and larger than most keys. They key seemed to be old, the ridges a bit worn down from excessive use. The key was plain but when I ran my finger over it I remembered what happened after the taxi. The museum like building turned out to be a hotel at which I checked in, quickly settled down and with my briefcase I headed out onto the streets of Paris. I was walking down the street passing many unfamiliar faces. I bumped into one and this key was purposely placed into my hand slyly. I continued walking making a left and continued on my way (wherever that was). I was back in my jail cell looking down at the key. I looked at the bow of the key and noticed a marking that I recognized. I picked up the business card and turned it around looking at the logo in the corner (the ellipse with a key in the middle). I looked at the key and saw the same exact logo on the key. The only difference was that the logo on the key was more ornate looking (small swirls interconnecting and such). Another flashback came to me where I seemed to be in a part of Paris that was historical. The buildings were all different, close together, and little foot traffic. I walked into a light blue building and headed upstairs. The building was abandoned, dust adorned the house, covering all of the antique furniture. All of the doors were open upstairs except for one. I walked towards it and stopped right before it. I looked at the old doorknob and pulled out the key. I inserted it into the lock and turned the key hearing a small click. The door slowly swung open with a slight creak. I walked in removing the key and put it back into my pocket. There was someone standing by the open window. the window scattered light across the room illuminating the particles of dust. The curtains slightly waved as a nice breeze stirred the old air. The person turned around. I was once again back in the jail cell, my mouth slightly gaped open. The man who turned around was the person at the cafe.
My head was spinning. What was going on? What was I getting involved in? The last clue I had about what happened yesterday was the crumpled up piece of paper. I sighed picking it up, hoping this would end all of my frustrations about not remembering anything. The paper was stiff, it felt like parchment paper. I slowly and carefully unraveled it, feeling paper run across my fingers and hearing the crisp paper brush against itself. After unfolding it there were two things written in cursive in the center of the paper. I put the paper on the table and read "Alexandre Beaumont". At that moment everything came back.
I worked for a security company, well it's facade was a security company. Most would call my an undercover agent, but I feel like that's a bit too much like television. I go wherever my company sends me and do what ever they bid me (and that has a broad range). Alexandre Beaumont (a companion of mine) and I were sent to Paris to complete a mission. We each flew on separate flights and had our own mission to accomplish. When I got into my hotel room I opened up the piece of paper to find his name written on it. I had to eliminate Alex. I gasped, feeling tears rush down my face. I had to kill him, and I don't know if I could. Knowing that I couldn't escape from this I decided to go about my mission, thinking of a way out. I crumbled up my paper and shoved it in my pocket and walked outside. A key was handed to me along with a small piece of paper by a random stranger. The piece of paper had an address on it and I went to the place. That's where I ended up at the light blue house. I headed upstairs and unlocked the door with the key. Alex turned around, he wasn't surprised to see me and I wasn't surprised to see him.
"I don't want to kill you," I blurted out. He chuckled and walked up to me enveloping me in a hug.
"And I don't want to kill you," He answered.
"So what do we do?" I asked with an empty voice. He let go of me holding onto my shoulders.
"We run away," I looked at him in awe. "But first, we go eat something in this beautiful city." He said smiling at me. All I could do was nod. What was going on?
We ended up at a cafe in Paris, eating outside on the patio. We chatted and laughed, it almost made me forget about everything. I had found a random business card on the table and was playing with it, twirling and fiddling with it. I unconsciously threw it in my pocket as we stood up to leave. Just as we stood up I heard a loud bang, a gun was fired up from the rooftops. I don't know why I wasn't moving until I glanced down and saw that Alex had been shot in the heart. I gasped, feeling tears stream down my face. I looked at Alex's face which was looking down. He looked up, his face drained of color. He managed a small chuckle.
"They got me," He said. He managed to collapse in the chair and I ran over to him and began to apply pressure to his would, yelling at him to stay with me.
"Hey, got out of here, you know what's happening. Run, don't look back. Go," He managed to say. His head rolled back. I couldn't leave him. I shook him, crying and sobbing for him to come back. Why did they have to take him? What is going on?! I heard police sirens and saw the cops pulling up and yanking me away from him. I screamed and struggled to get out of their grasps only to end up getting hit on the head with something hard. I ended up passing out.
Now I am here in a jail cell, crying. My best friend had died, the company I worked for had killed him. Why am I in jail though? Just as I asked that the door slammed open.
"Get up, you're going on trial for the murder of Alexandre Beaumont." All expressions left my face, I felt my face go pale, my limbs go numb. I was set up for murder by the company I work for. They set me up. I didn't know what to do other than accept this fact. I stood up and put my hands out and felt them put cuffs on me. I followed them out of the cell and into the rest of my life as a convicted criminal.
I picked up the airplane boarding pass in hopes of discovering where I was going. I ran my fingers across the smooth and shiny paper. It was white and black and had a type of bar code off to the left and all of my information regarding my flight. I examined the boarding pass to find out I traveled from the Philadelphia International Airport to an airport in Paris, France! I continued to examine the pass. Terminal E, gate 13, departing time 7:30 AM, row 9A. As I read this information small flashbacks ran through my mind. I strung together the flashbacks and discovered that I seemed to be on a business trip. I was dressed in business casual, carried a briefcase, and seemed to have an important agenda in mind (though I cannot remember what this was)! I remember taking off into the sky and hours later arriving at an airport in Paris. After leaving the plane and gathering my luggage the last thing I remember is calling for a taxi and getting in. I placed the airplane boarding pass down and picked up the next object.
I picked up the valet parking ticket. It was shaped like a pentagon but smooth around the edges. It said Paris up top and the number 613 right below it. When I saw the number a flashback hit me. I had somehow managed to obtain a very expensive looking car. I pulled up and got out of the car handing the valet my key. I began to walk up to a museum looking building. The flashback ended there. I felt the paper, it was smooth and thin. It was white with black glossy print. I put the valet parking ticket down and reached for the next object.
I picked up the key and held it in my palm. I flipped it over, feeling the cold metal against my skin. It was the color of brass and larger than most keys. They key seemed to be old, the ridges a bit worn down from excessive use. The key was plain but when I ran my finger over it I remembered what happened after the taxi. The museum like building turned out to be a hotel at which I checked in, quickly settled down and with my briefcase I headed out onto the streets of Paris. I was walking down the street passing many unfamiliar faces. I bumped into one and this key was purposely placed into my hand slyly. I continued walking making a left and continued on my way (wherever that was). I was back in my jail cell looking down at the key. I looked at the bow of the key and noticed a marking that I recognized. I picked up the business card and turned it around looking at the logo in the corner (the ellipse with a key in the middle). I looked at the key and saw the same exact logo on the key. The only difference was that the logo on the key was more ornate looking (small swirls interconnecting and such). Another flashback came to me where I seemed to be in a part of Paris that was historical. The buildings were all different, close together, and little foot traffic. I walked into a light blue building and headed upstairs. The building was abandoned, dust adorned the house, covering all of the antique furniture. All of the doors were open upstairs except for one. I walked towards it and stopped right before it. I looked at the old doorknob and pulled out the key. I inserted it into the lock and turned the key hearing a small click. The door slowly swung open with a slight creak. I walked in removing the key and put it back into my pocket. There was someone standing by the open window. the window scattered light across the room illuminating the particles of dust. The curtains slightly waved as a nice breeze stirred the old air. The person turned around. I was once again back in the jail cell, my mouth slightly gaped open. The man who turned around was the person at the cafe.
My head was spinning. What was going on? What was I getting involved in? The last clue I had about what happened yesterday was the crumpled up piece of paper. I sighed picking it up, hoping this would end all of my frustrations about not remembering anything. The paper was stiff, it felt like parchment paper. I slowly and carefully unraveled it, feeling paper run across my fingers and hearing the crisp paper brush against itself. After unfolding it there were two things written in cursive in the center of the paper. I put the paper on the table and read "Alexandre Beaumont". At that moment everything came back.
I worked for a security company, well it's facade was a security company. Most would call my an undercover agent, but I feel like that's a bit too much like television. I go wherever my company sends me and do what ever they bid me (and that has a broad range). Alexandre Beaumont (a companion of mine) and I were sent to Paris to complete a mission. We each flew on separate flights and had our own mission to accomplish. When I got into my hotel room I opened up the piece of paper to find his name written on it. I had to eliminate Alex. I gasped, feeling tears rush down my face. I had to kill him, and I don't know if I could. Knowing that I couldn't escape from this I decided to go about my mission, thinking of a way out. I crumbled up my paper and shoved it in my pocket and walked outside. A key was handed to me along with a small piece of paper by a random stranger. The piece of paper had an address on it and I went to the place. That's where I ended up at the light blue house. I headed upstairs and unlocked the door with the key. Alex turned around, he wasn't surprised to see me and I wasn't surprised to see him.
"I don't want to kill you," I blurted out. He chuckled and walked up to me enveloping me in a hug.
"And I don't want to kill you," He answered.
"So what do we do?" I asked with an empty voice. He let go of me holding onto my shoulders.
"We run away," I looked at him in awe. "But first, we go eat something in this beautiful city." He said smiling at me. All I could do was nod. What was going on?
We ended up at a cafe in Paris, eating outside on the patio. We chatted and laughed, it almost made me forget about everything. I had found a random business card on the table and was playing with it, twirling and fiddling with it. I unconsciously threw it in my pocket as we stood up to leave. Just as we stood up I heard a loud bang, a gun was fired up from the rooftops. I don't know why I wasn't moving until I glanced down and saw that Alex had been shot in the heart. I gasped, feeling tears stream down my face. I looked at Alex's face which was looking down. He looked up, his face drained of color. He managed a small chuckle.
"They got me," He said. He managed to collapse in the chair and I ran over to him and began to apply pressure to his would, yelling at him to stay with me.
"Hey, got out of here, you know what's happening. Run, don't look back. Go," He managed to say. His head rolled back. I couldn't leave him. I shook him, crying and sobbing for him to come back. Why did they have to take him? What is going on?! I heard police sirens and saw the cops pulling up and yanking me away from him. I screamed and struggled to get out of their grasps only to end up getting hit on the head with something hard. I ended up passing out.
Now I am here in a jail cell, crying. My best friend had died, the company I worked for had killed him. Why am I in jail though? Just as I asked that the door slammed open.
"Get up, you're going on trial for the murder of Alexandre Beaumont." All expressions left my face, I felt my face go pale, my limbs go numb. I was set up for murder by the company I work for. They set me up. I didn't know what to do other than accept this fact. I stood up and put my hands out and felt them put cuffs on me. I followed them out of the cell and into the rest of my life as a convicted criminal.
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