Desires Of The Unknown

"Mommy," I whined. "I'm seven, I don't need to know how to shoot a gun."
My mother sighed, for the umpteenth time in the past hour, "Gwen, what are you're father and I trying to do?"
"Make the perfect spy," I said like a robot. "Which is dumb," I grumbled.
"No it's not," my mother snapped. Of course she heard me, she has very sensitive well trained ears. "Now shoot the damn target," she snapped, once again.
"Yes, mommy."

Odd? Yeah, that's my life. I am the prodigy. Only in high school and the NSA, CIA, FBI, Homeland Security, MI-6(And I'm not even from England), and all the other letters in the alphabet want me. My mom and dad work for the CIA. My brother is FBI. My Aunt Helen and Uncle Ron work for the NSA. My Uncle Nolan works for Homeland Security. They've all tried to recruit me, but I like where I'm at. Which is no where.
I look after the kids from the mobs and even one from the Mexican Drug Cartel. All of them are sweet, except Carlos and John, they have issues. Or, in my opinion, they have sexual tension between them, but whatever people want to believe.
My name is Guinevere Elliot Young, bu I go by Jen at school and everywhere else except at home and with my family. I am the shadow that everyone looks at, but no one sees. My dirty-blond hair stops at my mid-back. My height is five-three, or petite as my legs remind me so often. My skin is pale, but not sickly. My boobs are average, they don't stick out or get in my way, but they're noticeable at a nice 32 C. The only thing that stands out and would make people see my are my wide, innocent looking, forest green eyes. I blend in, but I'm still cute, which is another reason they want me in all the agencies.
This is the lovely story of how my life, got flipped, and flipped again, and once again, flipped, till I punched the bastard in the face. Haha, just kidding, about all the flipping, I really did punch him though.