Answers; Part One? | Teen Ink

Answers; Part One?

September 25, 2010
By Katie_Grey DIAMOND, Leipsic, Ohio
Katie_Grey DIAMOND, Leipsic, Ohio
58 articles 10 photos 46 comments

Favorite Quote:
Difficult is not impossible - Relient K, "Hope for Every Fallen Man"

If all I had was love, would I still be lovely?
If all I gave was love, would you give up on me?
-House of Heroes, "Love is for the Middle Class"

So this is what it comes down to. Two candidates, one position, and one dire circumstance at hand. The room is dark, the air muffled by the thick dust occupying it. The dirt in the air gathers in my mouth and tastes slimy as I swallow it. The space is small and cramped, though all that it contains are two chairs and an exposed light bulb swinging restlessly overhead. That bulb is the only light in the room, and I must strain my eyes to make the image sitting across from me clear. He is quite handsome and is very strongly built, with large arms and a wide frame. He stands at a height of 6'3”, well above my 5'3”. His dark hair is sprinkled with dust and he repeatedly shakes his head as if to rid of it. His eyes are dark, when I look into them I feel the mystery of the ocean's depths. He sits leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, while I sit rigid and keen. He is lucky, he has no idea what he is here for. We have had him think of this as simply a game, until now. Thus, he looks uncertain and nervous, his brows are furrowed and his left eye twitches every so often.

I look intently at him, keeping eye contact for quite a while. There is a quiet stillness in the room, causing the air to be stiff and stale. The only sounds being the painful squeaks of the lamp swinging, the nervous breath of the man, as well as the shuffling of his feet on the dust laden concrete floor. He does not speak, and I know it is because he is waiting for me to. So it is, I must get on with it. Though he does not realize I am just as frightened as he.

“Do you know what you are here for?” I say, and he jumps to an upright position.

“No, I do not.” A simple answer. Good.

“I am going to ask you a few questions. You cannot answer them right or wrong. We will not be long here, and we will contact you afterwords if you have what we need. You will not understand what is happening, and that is what we want. We are not here to hurt you, we only wish to know who you are. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” That was a lie.

“Okay, then let's get started. First question: Have you experienced unconditional love?”

“Not yet. I'm waiting for it.” ...No. I check the box on the yellow paper I have in front of me.

“Who do you cry for?”

“My family. My friends. Those that I love.” ...No.

“When you look in the mirror, what do you see?”

“A strong man, someone who is willing and able to fight for and through anything.” ...Okay.

“Are you willing to kill another man?”

“Yes.” ...No.


“To save my life, to save others lives.” ...No.

“What is your greatest weakness?”

“Uhm, I'm not sure.” ...No.

“What is your greatest strength?”

“Well, I like to help people.”...No.

This man isn't looking like he will be able to help. I sigh deeply, I hope the next one will be more promising. Still, I have one last question,

“Where do you store your most prized possessions?”

“In a box, a safe, in my attic.” ...definitely not.

“Okay, sir. That will be all for now. You may go home.”

A look of relief washed over his continence. He stood, as did I. I shook his hand and thanked him for his time. He walked over to the door, his footsteps were notably lighter as they hit the floor than when he had first come in. He pulled the heavy metal door open and it squealed in distaste against the floor. After he had disappeared into the fluorescent lighted hallway, I slumped into my chair and took a deep breath. This, most assuredly, was not the guy we have been looking for. My colleagues will not be happy. Why had they assigned me to this most important task? I've been at this for three years now and still I have not found the person by the description they had given me. In fact, I am beginning to believe that they have sent me to find someone that does not exist. A rarity that only some believe in, like the Lochness monster or Bigfoot.

I hurriedly gather myself and sit up tall in my chair again. There is still one more to question, one more to put my hopes in. I press the button on my necklace to alert the secretary to let him in. A few minutes later, the door agonizingly lets out another shriek as it opens, and then is pushed shut. This one is far different from the others, even at first glance. He stands just as tall, at somewhere around 6' but there is something there that I can't put a name to. His broad shoulders allow him to stand comfortably with a serene confidence. His sandy blonde hair and green eyes give him a charming brightness. He smells of sweet comfort, and it is very distracting. He has a smile lingering on his face, one that is all too familiar to me, but how? My heartbeat quickens as I look up at him. How can I know this man? I have not seen him in any of the other areas of testing, as I was not involved with them. I am only the one to put them through the final stage.

He looks at me with that smile of his and says,

“Hello. How are you today?”

He doesn't seem nervous at all, unlike the others. I come to my senses as fast as I can and stand.

“I am well. You may have a seat here.” I say, gesturing to the chair across from me.

“Thank you.” he says in reply.

“Uhm, okay.” I say, preparing for the routine speech, “Do you know what you are here for?”

“No. Do you?”

This took me by surprise. I am supposed to be the one asking the questions, not him. Besides, what did he meant by that? Do I know what he is here for, or do I know what I am here for? Of course I know what he is here for! But...why am I here? I take a deep breath,

“Well, yes. I do know why you are here.”

He responds to this answer with a small chuckle, providing proof that is not the answer he was looking for.

“Alright, I am going to ask you a few questions. You cannot answer them right or wrong. We will not be long here, and we will contact you afterwords if you have what we need. You will not understand what is happening, and that is what we want. We are not here to hurt you, we only wish to know who you are. Do you understand?”

“No.” he replies honestly. I hope I don't look to shocked.

“That's okay.” I say. He makes eye contact with me and my heart flutters. I've never seen eyes like his, or have I?

“First question: have you experienced unconditional love?”

“Yes.” ...Okay.

“Who do you cry for?”

“The world.” What? An answer I had not heard. I don't know what to do with it, so I skip checking off anything on my paper.

“When you look in the mirror, what do you see?”

“Nothing.” Hum...

“Are you willing to kill another man?”



“His life is not mine to take.”

Now I am compelled by this man to pause and contemplate what is happening. Have we found him? He looks at me with intent and says,

“You are quite beautiful, you know.”

I flush red, he can't say that! Not here, not now. I hardly agree with him anyway. I try to act professional and move on without recognition of his absurd statement.

“What is your greatest weakness?”


I clear my throat nervously.

“What is your greatest strength?”

“Someone.” What? Who?

“Okay, sir. Final question: where do you keep your most prized possessions?”

“Not here.”

Not here, not here? I am baffled! Who is this man, I wish I could know his name. If only I were allowed. Then another thought, a forbidden thought swept over my mind. Will I ever see him again? I want to see him again. But I know it cannot be allowed. I must hurry, we have found him and I must alert my colleagues.

“Good. We are finished. You may go home now. We will be contacting you soon and you will be briefed on what all this is about.”

I rush through my words, I just want him to leave so my heart will stomp pumping so hard.

“Okay.” he says, “I hope to see you again soon, Kate.”

Whoa, what? Nobody calls me that. Not even my colleagues know my real name, and those are the only people that know me. I am a secret, I am not real to the world. How can he know my name? I can't remember him! How can this happen?

With what surely could only be described as a look of complete and utter stupor on my face, he exited the room. I frenziedly shook my head, like the man with the dark hair, but instead to rid my mind of the sludge collecting in it. I cannot collect myself, but I know what I need to do.

I walk over to the corner of the barely lit room to a place where a walkie-talkie lay on the floor. I hold it up to my lips so that I could speak clearly into it.

“We've found him.” I say, and with that, it is done. Yet, it can never end.

What have I gotten myself into?

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This article has 1 comment.

on Jul. 30 2011 at 2:25 pm
collegegirladventures GOLD, Mequon, Wisconsin
10 articles 8 photos 307 comments

Favorite Quote:
A poet's work is to name the unnameable, to point at frauds, to take sides, start arguments, shape the world, and stop it going to sleep.

~Salman Rushdie

ohhhhh!!! do u have a part 2 now?!?!? this is so good..i want MORE!! lol