Day of the Spy | Teen Ink

Day of the Spy

March 14, 2013
By Zach Heaton BRONZE, Shelby, North Carolina
Zach Heaton BRONZE, Shelby, North Carolina
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Why is this happening to me? This is the only thing that I could think about as I hunkered down behind a slab of concrete, trying to avoid the bullets whizzing past me. Then again I knew exactly why, it was because of my dad, the man squatting next to me shooting at our attackers. They were a small, secretive terrorist group located in the small town of Dillon, VA, led by mad man that was formally recognised as Teihing.
It feels like forever ago but in reality it has only been a few weeks since things were "normal". Then again when has my life ever been normal, from my mom dying in in a freak car crash to people following after school. I guess that I should have seen something like this coming but between school and trying to find a girlfriend I hardly realized anything.


As I attempted to maneuver around the corner of the concrete slab, I could hear my father screaming at me to pull myself together because we have to get through this to survive. Survive, what an unappreciated word that we hardly use on a daily basis. Survival use to be one of the last things on my mind, but lately it has become the only thing.
Growing up as a regular teenager doing ordinary things seems to be slipping farther and farther away as time goes by. As a kid I could only imagine what it would be like to be a spy, but now actually living the life it seems to be a cold and lonely road. When my father first told me that he was a spy, I was ecstatic. The thought that my father was a living, breathing, killing machine made me as his son feel invincible. Killing a someone was something you heard about in movies or TV shows. Actually witnessing it seems to be more of a tragedy then of a brag.
When it seemed to be our last few minutes of life, the calvary arrives. Swat vans, helicopters, police cars, and men with suites carrying a huge array of weapons, seemed to appear out of the dust. My father turns to me and says," this might be our only chance." In a blink of an eye we have already covered the distance between the site we have been taking refuge at and the the caravan of people, running as if death was nipping at our heels. We finally make it to the blockade screaming that we are the good guys. Finally were safe. As I begin to look for my father I realize that he has already slipped through the blockade, disappearing into the chaos. Realizing how close I came to death, I starting thinking if I could go back in time would I do it again? I slowly grinned and said, "definitely".



Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 0 comments.