I look back at my life and by god, I don't know how I did it. Survived I mean.
My life hasn't been easy. I was raised by spies you see, I say raised that isn't quite true. They just happened to be my parents, I was actually raised by a distant aunt that was once removed from the family. Having spies as parents weren't as fun as it may sound. I never really saw them, maybe once a month if that, the longest I went without seeing them was 8 months. They'd send postcards but I doubt they were real. After all, spies were never supposed to give up their location. They lived and breathed for their jobs until they didn't. They died tragically on the hardest mission of their lives, as a teenager at the time they didn't tell me this just that it was an accident. I found out much later.
I was their legacy and I too had become a spy, it was the law. At the age of sixteen, I started my training, it was rigorous and hard. I didn't have a choice, I didn't exactly hate it though. I accepted my duty, trained and became a spy.
I met my partner Barb whilst serving, we met at the beginning of my career. By this point, she had already been a spy for 5 years. Her partner before me had to retire due to 'madness' - this in spy terms we know he went off the rails and tried to expose the entire company, the bosses couldn't allow this so he took a trip. Where to? No one knows, he was never seen again. I was picked to be Barbs new partner as soon as I graduated training at the age of 20. We hit it off right away. We became inseparable quickly. We went on to work together for 50 years, totally in love with each other. I think us being in love with each other was the reason we lasted so long as spies. We protected each other and always had each other's backs. We lived together outside of the spy life too, it was easier that way. We were almost always on call plus we enjoyed each other's company. We were a dream team, travelled the world together. We were unstoppable until we were stopped.
That day my world came crashing down, I haven't felt the same since. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night calling for her until I remember the mission that went wrong. I still cry about it, missing her with my whole being.
The mission was an odd one from the start, an unknown territory we were entering. Must admit after 50 years we weren't as springy as we once were. In the brief, we were giving details that were incorrect and that cost Barb her life. I was so angry at the company, they had one job. The enemy murdered her before my eyes, I barely made it out alive. I saw her fall to the ground, I cried out for her and then there was this aching in my chest, pain shooting through me. I blacked out and days later woke up in the emergency room. I remember asking for Barb, crying to see her and when I was told she had died I was distraught. This sent me down a dark spiral, I wasn't the same person anymore. I entered a very dark place, I quit being a spy. Age caught up with me fast, I lived inside my head for a while. The world was no place for a heartbroken 70-year-old retired spy. There were several attempts to try and leave the world but the company looked after me, made sure I was okay. I still resented them nonetheless.
It has been ten years since her death, I left the retirement home two and a half years ago. Barb came to me in a dream, whilst I was in the home, she stroked my face and spoke to me
"Please don't give up, I know you miss me but I need you to live on. Be happy, stick it to the company. You're not a washed-up all spy, you are Rita Rosco. A living badass who I love. You deserve to be happy." I cried in her arms and she held me, it was magnificent. She was exactly how I remembered her, fiery red hair and a smile that would make any person stop in their tracks. I woke up after that dream with a zest for life, I Rita Rosco was not going to rot with the company.
I now reside in the house we used to live in together. I am doing well, I finally got to know our neighbours after all those years of being away. A lovely woman lives next door, she is the same age as me. She brings homemade biscuits every Sunday and I brew us some tea. Barb would have adored her. She listens to all my stories, I told her I used to be a spy and she laughed. Not horribly but I could tell she didn't believe me, probably for the best, she is good company.
So, I guess what I am trying to say is even though I am not the same person I used to be, and even though Barb isn't here. I am doing okay.
I suppose, even cacti grow in the desert.
R.R
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This was a response to the July prompt from WritingMyPrompt.
