Time

I had the chance now, to go back in time, to kill him before any of it even began.

I looked at the young mother, holding her baby with a loving gaze, unaware that any misfortune could come to the permanently bonded pair. She held her infant to her breast and smiled. My heart sunk. Is it possible for fate to be wrong?

I turned away from the window and stared down at the ground. I had been sent back to the middle of a beautiful spring day. The grass at my bare feet was dried by the sun, no trace of the chilling morning dew. The clothes I had haphazardly gathered on my way here were mere shreds of fabric, but even in a tank top and short skirt, with no socks or shoes, I was still comfortably embraced by the warm breeze. A ladybug crawled across my toes. I didn't feel anything like an assassin in my current state, but an assassin I was. My buzzed hair and tattooed arms were proof of my involvement in the resistance. However, with the world looking so beautiful and peaceful, I almost wanted to throw away my mission and let it be.

But that baby would grow up to kill my family, and along with it, millions of other innocent people. Thousands of other babies would die. Families would be broken apart. People would be tortured. Murder. Genocide. Countless crimes against humanity. The entire world would be thrown into a state of war and chaos.

It just hadn't happened yet. At this time, the only proof of what was to come... was me and my foggy memories.

Sculpted

He was made of chiseled stone, every little detail of him perfect, straight from my mind to the block. The only thing that was bothering me was his face. Something about his smile was slightly imperfect, and it made me uncomfortable to look at it. Every time I tried to change it slightly, it seemed like I was only making it worse.

I tried to ignore it and work on the finer details of his body. His hands were large, and his shoulders were wide. He should be fit, but from working hard. I hadn't decided on his occupation, but certainly it would be something extremely physical. It would probably be something that would eventually wear his body down in old age, like construction, which he would have to retire from. He would be a hero to any of his future children. He would be strong and kind and it would be comfortable to be in his arms. More comfortable than being anywhere else in the world.

But something about his smile. Was it pained, like it was almost a grimace? Or was it a little too much like a smirk, like he was playing a joke at someone else's expense? I struggled to get inside his head. He was supposed to be a hero to me, as well, and this smile almost made me fear him.