'Breaking news: a colonel in the Nigerian army was arrested earlier this morning for treachery and selling of country's sensitive information to the enemies' boldly read the headline on the British daily reports.
It was the morning news regularly broadcasted on BDR, it was a cold morning in the city of New York and Julia was seated before her TV set with an expressionless face. She couldn't help but remember Fred and she broke into tears again…she had done this a million times.
He had laid at her feet, dying while he said the things she had been dying to hear from him all along…he had fought through a crowd of brutes, rogues and murderers to profess his love for her, to ask her to marry him.
She had seen a recording chip in his palm that was holding hers and she had kept it with her. A few days later, her father decided to send her here with the excuse she needed to forget all that happened and have a good time…could she ever forget?
Just a day to her departure, she had been visited by a man of average looks bearing the locket Fred always wore…she had cried again as the man asked her if she had any proof against her father, perhaps anything left behind by Fred and she had remembered the chip and gave it to him.
Before he left he looked back at her and said "I'm peter…the first" and he had disappeared in a flash before she could stop him.
She sat more comfortably with a cup of coffee in hand, the words "remember me in a simple way…not for the things I did or said" sounding close to her ears like the gentle whispers of a ghost---her ghost---