Carcano Killer

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Historical Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
I took a historical fiction story i had to write for English class and put more detail into it. I've seemed to have misplaced the original copy, so it's from memory. Note: I had to include things (slang,clothing etc) from the 1960's. It won't make much sense unless you know of the possible conspiracy in the J.F.K assassination. SORRY FOR THE SPELLING ERRORS : )

Submitted: June 14, 2010

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Content

Submitted: June 14, 2010

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This is not an apology,
nor a confession.
In no way do I feel guilty for my actions.

The early morning rays streamed in through the windows in which were covered in a thin layer of dew. My wife was hunkered down beside me. I could feel her nose pressed against my side, and her swelled stomach against my hip. I strained my eyes to read the crumpled note once more. 

David,
The plans for next week are solid,
so I'll be catching up with you in a few.
Untill then,
hang loose kid.
We wouldn't be here if you were a flake.
Ever,
Alex Hiddel.

Lee Harvey Oswald had been using the fake name of Alex Hiddel ever since our  plans started becoming  more detailed. Talking face-to-face was almost out of the questions. So notes and packages came often. I folded the note back up and slid it in my nightstand drawer, a small sigh escaping my lips. I had seven days to prepare for what would be the most dangerous, and tense, event I wwas sure I'd ever experience.

Upon thinking this I slowly got out of the bed and picked up a dirty shirt from the floor. I pulled it over my "unreasonably" long mess of hair. You could say I was into the whole "counter-culture" thing that was taking over everyone. My favorite part was that smoking pot out on the streets was almost normal now.

I stepped out into the chilly air to recieve the newspaper from the driveway. I waved to a fellow neighbor passing by before heading back up to the small house. However small it was, it fit me and my wife almost perfectly.

I stepped into the kitchen and took a sit at the table. Before I unfolded the newspaper I lit a cigarette and held it up to my mouth to take a hit. I pressed my fingers onto the gray paper, scanning the headline report on Veitnam. The toll of deaths had rose. I couldn't help but think of our president. Now don't get me wrong, Johnny isn't that bad of cat. Our country just isn't ready for him. Atleast, that's what Oswald kept telling me. But then again, he told me a lot of things.  I mean, I was only doing it for the money. And he needed me. I was the "best sharp-shooter" he'd ever seen. And besides, he saved my life. I was in debt.

I finished my cigarette as my wife wobbled in, rubbing her eyes. She ruffled my hair and kissed my forehead. I forced a smile. A smile that gave nothing of my worry away.

*******

The days went by in a haze. I moved through the motions like a robot. I went to work and went crusing. I made dinner, and spent nights watching the Flinstones and listening to The Beatles. I listed to my wife babble about how I had "come down with something." The ways Friday would go down played in my mind over and over. I couldn't focus. And it only got worse as the day came closer.

I awoke Friday morning with butterflies in my stomach. I had slept a few hours, if that. I dressed and grabbed the car keys off of the kitchen table quickly. Nancy, my wife, was busy gossiping over the telephone. I waved goodbye and headed out to the local Food Mart. I had gotten a note from Oswald the night before. He was leaving a different vehicle and gear for me at the grocery.

The car was easy to spot. It was a black Ford Mustang. My Thunderbird parked next to it was to of no comparison. I took my keys and headed into the grocery store. I bought a a box of rubber gloves and gallon of milk. I paid with cash.

I walked to the Mustang and twisted the gas cap off, digging out the keys. Before I could unlock it, an obnoxious voice echoed into my ears.

"Heeeeey, man! Is this yours? She's righteous!" His words were drawn out, and I noticed a joint between his fingers. He looked like a bobble head, eyeing the car. He was naive. He knew nothing of my plans this afternoon.

I waved goodbye and started the car. It seemed to roar to life, like a lion attempting to intimidate it's fellow tribe mates. I pulled out. I was headed to the Dealey Plaza.

******

I met up with Oswald in the Texas School Book Depository parking lot. He was in normal threads and shades. We traded skin and he handed me a black sack of money. He made small talk as if everything wasn't a big deal. His honest smile lead me to question his sanity. For I had been questioning my own as well.

It would be the last time I saw Oswald in person. He left muttering." I'll see you on the other side, Davie." 

I pulled off without replying. I turned the radio up untill I got to the Dal-Tech building across the plaza. I parked and slipped two gloves into my pockets.

I was securing my badge and duffel bag as a crowd of people swarmed out of the building. Unlike them, I entered. I skipped the  stairs untill I reached the Sixth floor. It was deserted.

I chose a closed off office with a large window. I slid on the pair of gloves and got out the parts of the Carcano Short Rifle. It took me no time to assemble it. I've had but to much experience.

I watched from the window as Johnny's Ford Lincoln rolled into the Plaza with his wife sitting comfortably next to him. I tilted my head down and looked through the scope. It didn't matter if Johnny was ready, because I was. A few seconds passed before I pulled the trigger. I immedietly heard the mortified screams of his wife. I heard the cries of the citizens that just witnessed their first assassination.

I didn't have time to think about my actions. I knew Oswalds bullet would soon follow, just to seal the deal. I gathered the empty shell and took down the rifle. I peeled the gloves off and tossed them in the duffel bag. I was zipping it up and taking the stairs at the same time.

I crossed the parking lot slowly, taking my good old time. Uptight was the opposite of what I was as I got into the Mustang and started off again. I let out a gust of air from my mouth. It happened quickly. I almost couldn't remember it. Howver, I knew that luck would play a part in whether or not I would get away with it. And later on, I found that luck had caused people to suspect Oswald. 

I reached the Food-Mart and entered my Thunderbird with only the rubber gloves, the Mustang keys, and the satchel of money. Because life would go on for my family with or without Oswald. Without Johnny. I'd use the money to move away before I became to paranoid.

I am David Stone,
and I killed John Kennedy
on November 22nd from the Dal-Tech 6th floor window.


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