Goodbyes From Tomorrow

I watched her walk through the streets. Her beautiful blue hair dirtied, her feet muddied and blistered, wearing clothes which were an overstatement to be called rags and did little help in shielding her growing bosom and bottom from the elements and the enemies.
The enemies...
I looked around and saw them, sneaking glances at her from the corners and calling out.
Making obscene gestures and irritating noise for the free show she was giving.

She walked slowly though, always firm, and steadfast, she knew that they could shout, holler and call but not touch.
She was a worker for the house of ivy-at least a worker in training.
Instead she kept her eyes on the men who weren't hiding in the corners.

The men who walked proudly with their top hats, walking sticks and their arms linked with their beloved.
The gentlemen, they were the real enemies. Chameleons who looked as though they were untouchable at day but became monsters or crying babies at night.

I watched her as she walked slowly, eyes down, ignoring noise of the men of the streets and making sure not to bother the men on the streets. A fine line she walked before entering the compound of The House of Ivy.

"Target Acquired." I spoke into my headphones, informing mission control of my progress.
"Wonderful Agent Nahn. Make sure she does what needs to be done and be careful. Minimal contact, maximum effect."
"Minimal Contact, Maximum Effect." I repeated the phrase to the headset, a guideline and rules for my job, one that every worker should have in his head.

This particular mission was tricky and the stakes were high. Incredibly high.
I tried not to think of it as I continued my search, smiling in satisfaction as I saw my goal freshly washed and now dried on a clothesline two roofs over.

I strolled in my new attire, delicate and slow. Mimicking the poise I've studied after countless years seeing other women of this time.
I looked at the huge building I was about to enter, it's outside so neat and tidy, with a cross mounted on the roof, one may even think of it as a church or any other place of worship, yet I couldn't help but giggle at the thought.
The Ivy House was anything but holy.

Entering inside the building was like entering inside a whole new dimension.
Sweet heavy scents, different blinding flashing colours, hanging curtains of beads and silks and cotton and rugs of different intensities at your feet. The Ivy House prided itself in changing your perspective and it was so good at it.
Yet the worst part was the way it changed and affected your mind.
Even after living here years before, I couldn't help but blush and squirm as I noticed the mangle of bodies in each of the side rooms and the different sounds coming from them.
Some of pure pleasure and some of pain, some a mixture of both.
"Doing what makes you feel good doesn't always have to look pretty."
I jumped at the sound, not noticing how closely the attendant had come to me.

I looked at who was talking, a tall beautiful slender woman who had an elderly vibe but didn't look any more than thirty. I shook visibly as I recalled who was standing in front: Miss Evergreen Ivy, sole director of the Ivy house and the best courtesan of her generation.
She looked me up and down, taking a long drag of her pipe. I always felt her discerning eye could naked whoever or whatever was in its gaze, deciding whether its involvement with her would end in a profit or loss on her part.
"Might I ask what a fine young lady like yourself is looking for in my humble legal establishment."
She put an emphasis on the legal and I knew I've been found out.
Was it my stance? The way I fit into the clothes?
I would never know, but she already had a hint that I was in law enforcement and that was a story I was ready to build on.
The easiest story for a victim to believe is one he or she cooked up herself.

"I'm looking for someone." I said as feminine as possible, still choosing to continue my act as a fair maiden which made her completely settle on the fact that I was part of the law enforcement.
"The Ivy House does drag in a lot of dirt, none that would need your help in cleaning out though."
The message was simple.
"Paying Customers were Customers no matter where they got their funds to use and pay. If you have any problem, you could wait for the customer outside."
She has stopped smoking her pipe and looked at me with stern eyes and a changed stance.
A stance I knew quite well after watching it for many years.
The stance that said; 'We don't want any trouble, but if you want some trouble, we have excess of it to dish out.'

I had to change tactics and fast, being stopped here simply means that the mission would end. If I go out now, she would tell the guards to be on a lookout for me.
She had already looked at my face and dressed long enough to make a portrait of me with one eye closed. She was blessed like that.

I happened to see my goal come up to the front, dressed in the finest of silk and ready to put her name in the roster to be called up.
She didn't need to do it though, every single time she was known to be available, she was called, she was that popular.
I took a leap of faith, simply ignoring Miss Ivy and going to the roster to make my pick.
"Courtesan Grace?" She looked at me there with dead eyes.
Eyes so pale and hollow at such a young face.
With her blue hair, evidence of her foreign blood, she was a beauty that was prided on in the ivy house.
Miss Evergreen Ivy took care of her preparation and make-up specially. Not trusting the women who were jealous of her looks and foreign descent.
I never knew why Miss Ivy did that for her. Maybe because Miss Ivy was foreign too, maybe because Grace made her a lot of money, one can never tell with the woman.
"Is this who you were looking for?" Miss Ivy asked behind my back, eyes always looking for any giveaways.
"I smiled back and nodded."
Her eyes squinted into a new slit of distrust before she called her price.
I nearly fell over in shock and Grace's dead eyes even shone wider with recognition of the amount.
I priced down, a fatal mistake to make, one never priced down a courtesan.
Miss Ivy took offense at that.
"Are you trying to shame my girls?!"
I needed no more pressure and paid them in both cash and jewelry- none mine.

She sat there lost in thought. I was thoughtful too, looking at her with only one thought running through my head.
'Why?'

She paid quite a hefty sum for my services, almost twice of what I made a week.
Miss Ivy, that old hag, probably just said it so she would be driven off.
I went on to prepare her wine, at least something to help ease her into the mood.
"No need. I don't plan on staying long." She said tiredly.
I stopped at that, she paid an amount that could buy off a house but she claims she won't be staying long.
I looked at this new customer curiously.
Her clothes seemed a size down, making her bosom almost spill out from its hold and the flowing skirt did little in concealing her backside.
"So what are we going to do?" I asked her, voice calm and inviting, just like Miss Ivy had taught me.
"We're not here to do anything." She said aghast. Her cheeks flushed red at the thought and I couldn't help but smile at her naivety.
"There are no refunds you know?" I said laughing.
"I know that." She replied, seemingly getting herself back.
"I'm just here to talk."
"Talk huh? What about?" I asked, propping myself up on the bed, trying to act as alluring as possible.
Normally men by now would have forgotten all self control and mounted me like the horny dogs they were.
Yet this was a woman, and a disciplined one at that. She looked on, blushing but nothing more.
"Talk about you and what you intend to do."

I noticed her countenance change as I said that.
The seductive underage courtesan who exuded every type of inviting feminine allure humanly possible became stone faced.
She looked like an animal who had been cornered and ready to strike.
Maybe she was.
"What do you mean by what I intend to do?" She asked slowly.
Eyes staring straight into mine, looking for any hint she could find.
I relaxed and let her study me quietly.
"I know what happened yesterday. Why you came late and haggard today, and what you plan on doing tomorrow."
"I'm here to tell you not to."
She was ashen. Her face showed a full movie of emotions, from shock to curiosity, to anger, sadness and then amusement.
She laughed, laughed out loud, laughed so much that tears began to trail from her eyelids, ruining her make-up.
"If you spent all that money to simply tell me not to kill the man that defiled me, I'm afraid you're out of luck."
Her mind was set, her heart cold and her words true, this I knew, cause I was her.
It's not the first time I've had this conversation. It's not the tenth either.

I've done it so much that I could literally name every person in this town.
Coming to the past and having to help urge myself from taking a life changing, world changing decision seemed easy at first. Then I was told the decision and I knew it was a problem.
My sixteen year old self believed this choice is a must, she believed she should, she knew she could, she promised she would.
I looked at her with her cold empty eyes, blue hair and red lips and knew just how much pain was hidden beneath the make-up.

"Very well." I conceded, going through with my back up plan.
I undid my wig, letting my true azure coloured hair fall off, using a wipe, I wiped off the makeup on my face that changed my complexion and I removed my contact lenses that changed my eye color.
"Who are you?" She asked as she looked at my ongoing transformation with wide eyes.
"Your tomorrow." And with that I pulled a pistol and shot her through the head.

"Minimal Effort, Maximum Effect."

"Persuasion of target failed, termination completed. Miss Jeweline Grace is no more. Killed on 28th May, 1967, by a bullet through the head, Age: 16. Killer was Miss Jeweline Grace, a member of the special time corps, Age: 118." I recited the necessary details of the mission to mission control on my wristband.

"Information received. Miss Jeweline Grace, recorded as deceased. Thank you for your service to mankind. Good Luck and Goodbye."

At that I was free.
I snuck out of the whorehouse through the secret passage I built.
It was a tight fit but I managed to leave before the body was found.
Miss Ivy was livid, saddened with grief, it was heartwarming to know she did care.

The funeral service was brief, still it was a huge honor considering the fact that courtesans don't get to have funeral services.
I couldn't think about the man I was about to kill, the thought was removed from my head before I partook in the mission.
Miss Grace had to be stopped, the man couldn't be saved if her eyes were set on killing him, and the man had to be saved so the world could be saved.

Time travel was a messy thing, being in the business for sixty good years and still I got lost sometime.
Yet as I sat down, life weakening and body fading, I knew I had done a huge good for this world that has done so much bad to me.
I was about to be gone now, unknown but not forgotten.
To the people of West Coast Tennessee in the Ivy house, I was the young female courtesan with a bright future that was ruthlessly murdered. To the workers of Time, my name and likeness was carved out in everyone, one of the few people who saved the world by sacrificing themselves, and yet I was the only person to truly die twice, and the first time was by my own hand.

This is a response to the May Inleo Monthly Prompts posted by @leogrowth.