All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
My Life... or Not...
Author's note: I started writing this in 7th grade. Not my best piece but I still like it.
“Disappear, got it disappear, don’t get noticed, just blend in. Got it? THIS IS YOUR CHANCE. Don’t screw up”
The woman sitting in front of me was pudgy with dishwater blonde hair falling in wavy strands to her shoulders. She wore a baggy T-shirt, and ragged jeans, her face smeared with too much makeup. All in all she had a ratty look, like a mop which has gone too long without being replaced. She sat there drilling me in her drawling voice, putting emphasis on the parts which she clearly assumed to be important. But, I had gotten everything the first time, and now her voice faded away, and my head landed with a ‘kathunk’ on the table.
I stare blankly down at my map, then turn back to my schedule.
First Period: Algebra
Second Period: Band
Third Period: Language Arts
Fourth Period: Lunch/Read
Fifth Period: Art
Sixth Period: History
Seventh Period: Science
Great, math, my favorite. I turn back to the map; a maze of hallways and classrooms.
“You lost?” I jump, and my eyes turn to the cutest boy I have ever seen. He has long blonde hair which falls into his sea blue eyes.
“Uh, yea,” I stutter feeling somehow at a loss for words, “Er, could you help me find the Algebra classroom?”
“Sure, I have the same thing.”
I follow the blonde boy down the hallway, matching my footsteps to his, and making little sound as I walk. Realizing that this may seem odd, I begin to step out of time with him, and try my best to act normal.
“Here, Algebra. You can sit next to me if you want. My name is Jacob by the way.”
“Oh, yea,...I’m Katelina,” the name slides easily off my tongue, and I am surprised at how well I have adopted my cover.
We sit down in two desks, side by side. Immediately my spying instincts kick in, and within seconds I know that there are 17 kids in the class. Also I noted that Jacob was the best looking, although that last observation was more girl instincts than anything.The classroom has white walls smudged with dirt, with various posters plastered all over them: PEMDAS Please Excuse My Dear Aunt Sally, or Dare to be a leader. Aka a normal classroom. My eyes weave around the classroom memorizing every last detail, and finally I lean back in my chair, and wait impatiently for the bell to ring, and class to end.
The classes inch slowly by, until finally it is lunch. I eat quickly, and remembering my mission, slip out of the lunchroom. I sneak down the hall, and turn the corner only to find myself face to face with the principal. Well, more like face to chest. I realize for the first time how tall he was...or how short I was. Or both. Oh, whatever, this realization did nothing to ease my nerves. However I straighten myself up, and staring him defiantly in the eye, I ask him,
“I’m new here, and I was trying to find the bathroom, and I think I took a wrong turn, could you help me find it?”
He glares down at me, and seemingly deciding I’m innocent says, “You’re standing right by it.”
“Oh.” I walk into the bathroom, bumping into the principal on the way in. I hold the key I just pickpocketed from the principal. I wait until I hear footsteps walking away, then leave dangling the key ring from my fingers. I continue down the hall until I reach the office. Deciding it too hard to pass the secretary I walk around to the back door, and finding it unlocked walk in.
I see a cabinet holding our files, and what I assume are the teacher’s. I realize now that in order to get to the files I’ll need the secretary gone...or knocked out. I am in no mood for a fight, and now is way too early, I don’t want to blow my cover already.
Oh well... I will just have to cause a distraction.
I walk across the room and climb out the open window. I dig in my pocket and find some fireworks.
Why not, I think, It will certainly be a distraction.
I set off the fireworks, and hear the secretary shriek and run out of the room. I clamber back in through the window and search through the cabinets. I find the file I am looking for and open it with shaking fingers,
Name: Lydia Hawkthorne
Position: 7th grade science teacher
Other: Suspicions of associating with Nightshade
I shove the folder back in the cabinet, disappointed. I had been hoping for something new, I knew all of this. I hear the approaching footsteps of the secretary, and realizing I have only a few seconds, I duck out of the room, and dart down to the cafeteria, taking care not to be seen. I slide into my seat next to Jacob already prepared to answer his questions.
“Where’d you go?”
“Oh, I got lost on the way to the bathroom.” I decided it was best to keep my story the same.
The next day was cold, and the sky drizzled rain. The weather made the weekend seem even farther away than it was. I came to school already grumpy, and this was made only worse by Algebra. I sat through the class trying to comprehend the mind boggling equations that our teacher Mr. Scout was continually writing on the board.
Band was an easy class but lonely; I was new to the school, and my only friend was Jacob.
Language Arts was better, as it was one of my favorite classes. Mr. Green was a good teacher, managing to teach us and keep up our spirits.
At lunch I sat with Jacob, and two twins named Kiana, and Mia. Kiana was more outgoing, along with being bigger than Mia who was small, and shy. They both had blonde hair, and blue eyes, but that was about as far as the similarities went.
Art came next; I liked this class and drawing seemed to help me relax. Mrs. Smith had us draw still lifes, and I came up with a pretty good bowl of fruit.
I also enjoyed history. I sat next to a cheerful boy with red hair and dancing green eyes named Alex. We chatted through most of the class, and Mr. Thomas did not seem to mind so long as we did our work.
My final class was Science. Not my favorite class to begin with, and it was led by Ms. Hawkthorne, who was most likely a terrorist. After all that was why I was sent there...to investigate her.
It seemed like a normal class at first, although rather small. She started by calling roll, in which I counted only ten names, none of them familiar.
Then she assigned us lab partners, I got paired with a good looking eighth grader: Aaron.
When we stood up to find our lab partners, I felt a hard kick in the shins. I looked up into the beautiful, but cold eyes of Aaron Black.
“What’s the problem?” he sneered, “scared?”
“No,” I said defiantly, then bit my tongue remembering my cover, and somehow I thought that saying “Just wondering why you kick like a girl” would not be appropriate in this situation. Also, it is totally an insult to girls. So, I just stared down, and pretending to look dejected shuffled over to my seat. I plopped down into my chair, or more caterwauled over it and landed on the floor. I looked up to see Aaron two feet away with my chair.
“What’s the matter,” he hissed, giving me a hard kick in the ribs. “Can’t see the chair? What, don’t those glasses of yours do anything besides make you look stupid.” At this I stood up, snatched my chair and sat down. We could settle this later.
As I sat through class, I realised he was right. The glasses were just a party of my cover. And to be truthful, I did look stupid in them. Not to brag or anything, but I always thought I was somewhat pretty. I had dark brown hair and green eyes. My eyes were my favorite part of myself. Now they were covered up by these stupid glasses. But I suppose it’s better than people knowing who I really am. I really botched my last assignment. I was all over the papers. Girl Dies After Falling Off Roof, and whatnot. OK, I didn’t die, or fall, I was pushed, and the dying part was because we wanted to convince the terrorist organization I was after that I was dead so they wouldn’t come after me.
“Ms. Shanam,” I vaguely heard a voice call
“Ms. Shanam!” I heard the voice call again, shriller this time, accompanied by a sharp pang in the ribs as Aaron elbowed me.
“Please pay attention.” I did. To the ache in my side due to Aaron.
Later, I chided myself, I can deal with him later.
By the time class ended I had obtained several new bruises, and still Ms. Hawkthorne had failed to notice a thing.
I stormed home from school, may anger hardly diminished by the time I reached my house.
The next months past dully by, following much the same routine. I was pretty bored, and my classes seemed to get continually worse. Aaron continued to bully me and egg me on, and Ms. Hawkthorne continued to be oblivious to anything except her blood red nail polish. My only respite was my time spent with Jacob and the twins.
I had found little more about Lydia Hawkthorne except for the fact that she was so vain that she cared about little more than how perfect her dark brown hair was, or how red her lips were.
I was beginning to get restless, and so was the NSA, the agency I worked for. They had called a meeting today to discuss what to do next.
So here I was sweating after a long bike ride, and walking over to an old run down cabin. AKA the NSA’s headquarters. I opened the door to the cabin, and let myself in. The room inside was small. It’s only furnishings were an old, rusty bed, and a worn wardrobe. It was dingy and hot, and the place looked as though it had been abandoned for at least a hundred years.
I walked over to the wardrobe which had been pushed into a corner in the back. I pulled it open and climbed inside. it was empty except a mirror gleaming dully in the back. I press my hand against it now, and felt the elevator drop as it sensed my fingerprints. When I got out instead of the musty old cabin. I stepped into a modern room with desks separated by curtains, which created private offices, but could rise at the push of a button. I walked over to one of the few real offices in the back, and opened the door.
“Thanks for knocking,” drawled Mrs.Smudge.
I plopped down in one of the heavily upholstered chairs and sighed.
“What?” I replied mustering up all the rudeness and defiance hidden inside of me and pushed it all into that one word.
“You haven’t done anything,” she sighed
“Well, you see… um…” I blundered around, searching for the right words. But nothing could honestly explain my failure to act these past few months. I should have been tracking her every move. But I hadn’t. I was ashamed, and dropped my head my: words sputtering to a halt.
“Here is a tracking device,” she sighs, handing me a tiny dart.
“Somehow you need to get it on her person. And then you will be following her whenever possible.” The tracking device will let you know where she is when you can’t track her.”
“Oh…” I replied already wondering how I could possible get the tracking device in her. I was lost in my thoughts when I was shoved out the door.
“See you later,” Mrs. Smudge said in a sickeningly sweet voice.
Once outside I hopped on my bike and started pedaling furiously.She had given me an impossible task, and I felt sure I could never manage it.
The wheels in my mind had already started turning though. I withdrew deep into my thoughts and started pondering what I could do. By the end of the night I had a plan.