Desires Of The Unknown

I walk into the hospital, no one stopping me. I walk straight back, knowing family that could get in were confused, but they also knew not to question things. I walk to a nurse, still in my ripped dress, heels, and wig. She looks up at me then points to the right. I nod and follow her directions.
I get to the back and see a security guard. He puts up his hand, as if to stop me. I just kept walking, dodging his arm as it tries to grab me. He catches my arm before I could make it through the door. I huff and flip him, making him land his back.
"I'm sure I could kill you," I hiss. "Don't make me."
"Who are you?" he asks.
I give a dry laugh, "A myth."
I walk off after that, going to the only that has a guard at the door. I walk past them, glad they don't ask for anything. All I have, not that I have anything with my real name on it to begin with, was my fake ID. I push the doors open and the cool air hits my bare legs, making goose bumps pop up. I hold back a shiver as I continue to the back, where the agent was safe and alive.
"Who?" I ask.
"I don't know," he answers honestly.
"Agency?"
"High ranking FBI."
"How high?"
"At least level nine."
"That's over a hundred-fifty personnel."
He looks past me and sat up slowly. I make no attempt to help, knowing he will not take it anyway. "They know about you."
I stay calm, "I don't know what you're talking about,"
He chuckles, "I know it's you. I know of your rep, but you're labeled a ghost, a fairy tale for the spy kids."
"I still don't know what you're talking about," I sigh.
"Thank you," he sighs.
I give a nod, "I told your family. They're expecting a phone call."
"Of course," he sighs, again.
I pat his leg, "I have school tomorrow." I turn to the door and stop, "Oh, and tell anyone about me, and you'll drop dead."
"Got it," he nod.
"I'm not kidding, the government likes it's secrets."
I walk out, not even stopping to thank the guards. I have to walk three miles home. I sigh and take off my heels. I start jogging, listening to my family argue in the coms. I pull it out and stop. I drop it on the ground and stomp on it, hoping it hurt their ears and ignoring the pain of the metal now in my foot. I then take the microphone and stomp on that too.
The rest of the way home, I am emotionless, like always. The sun is gone, and the stars and moon are bright. I walk into the house, going straight to my room, not even bothering to turn the lights on. I push back the tears and quickly change into baggy sweats and a white tank-top.
I curl up under my blankets willing the pain in my foot to go away and pushing the tears back with the pain. Every time I kill someone, I always want to cry. They could have killed fifty people, but does that justify me killing them? I don't think so. Sure, they did something wrong, but no one needs to die unnaturally.
"You should be asleep with that foot wrapped," came the accented voice I love so much.
I look at the owner of the voice, "Thought you were in Bangkok."
"Got done early," he shrugs.
"What was the mission this time?"
"You know I can't tell you," he sighs, pushing his hair back with his hand. I give him a look. "Right, you are the high level of clearance."
I nod, "Yes, I am. So was it Hale? Or Fells who sent you?"
"Fells," the wonderful boy sighs, sitting at the foot of my bed, facing me.
"So you had to kill someone," I comment.
"Your sister."
"And did you?"
"Yes," he whispers.
"Which one?" I find myself asking.
"Dana."
I nod, "Was she the leak?"
"No," he says softly. "But I have ten suspects. I'm not exactly sure who." He looks up at me with the most serious face, "They know about you."
I know that, but for his benefit I curse in all the languages I know, which is French, German, Russian, Spanish, Bosnian, Chinese, Hebrew, Mandarin and Japanese. He laughs softly at my words, knowing what I was saying. I fall forward, and crawl over to him, leaving the warm blanket behind for his warm embrace. I put my head in his lap. He strokes my hair while humming a tune as I continue to silently curse.
"You know," he says, finishing with his humming. "You never did tell me who you wanted to meet."
I shrug, stopping my cursing, "There's no one else to meet." I look up to him, "You've been gone over three months."
He looks down at me, "I know."
There was no apology. You can't apologize in our line of work. It could get you killed. Or flipped. And if your flipped, you're as good as dead.
"Stop thinking," he whispers, ghosting his fingers over my face.
I smile softly, "You can't stop thinking."
"Fine," he smirks. "Then think about the first time we met."
I giggle; something I only do with him. "Why?"
His smirk turns into a smile, "Just do it."
"I kinda wanna hear how you two met," comes Carlos' voice.
"Me too," comes John's.
"Oh," he whispers, continuing to stoke my hair. "That's what the blinking light means."
I roll my eyes, my smile slipping as I look at the two boys who didn't knock, "Give me a reason I shouldn't beat you two?"
"Uh," Carlos says dumbly.
"We just had sex," John states bluntly, obviously changed in the year he has been here, making Carlos blush and hit his arm lightly.
I nod, "Good for you."
"I knew it," the accent whispers in my ear.
I looked up at him, knowing he could see the smile in my eyes, "As did I."
"Ooo," John says, jumping onto my bed. "Where does it start?"
I look at him, "Can you handle it?"
"Handle what?"
"Hearing your story again?" He flinches slightly. "And it will be way more detailed than you think."
He nods, "Fine, do it."

"An ice pick in the neck," I asked with a snotty tone to my voice. "Could they be anymore stereotypical?"
I stood from my crouching position to move before the blood could get onto my school uniform.
"Well," my uncle said. "That's the way the Irish mob is. Like the Italian mob, they send one to the ER, you send one to the coroner."
"It's a bit ostentatious, isn't it?"
My uncle sighed, running his hand through his slightly shaggy, graying hair, "I thought I told you to act like a teenager. You're fifteen, not fifty. I'm sure that close to no fifteen year old even know what ostentatious means."
I furrowed my eyebrows, "What does that matter?"
"Talking like that will make you seem soupier to your class mates."
"Aren't I?"
He shook his head, "The minute you think that," He dropped, swiping my feet out from under me. I fell to the floor hard, glaring at my uncle. "Your guard goes down. Your guard goes down, and we lose the only girl that can do a proper fly kick into a cart wheel without hurting herself. Hell, most guys can't even do it. Yes, you're the perfect spy. You feel nothing, you have no ties you wouldn't think twice about cutting and you sure as hell can kill, but never doubt that there is someone out there that is better than you, someone who can see through your mask and know when you're lying. Your emotions will come back and you'll be screwed."
"Wow," I said, getting up before the blood could get closer to me. "Long speech. And the guy was most likely strangled before he was stabbed."
"Why do you think that?"
I sighed and crouched next to the body again. I pointed to his pink eyes, showing that his blood vessels popped. Then I showed him the rope burn on his neck.
"It was a mercy killing. A loved one of the killer."
There was sniffle and a whimper. I looked at my uncle and grabbed my gun that was tucked in the back of my waist band of my plaid skirt. I walked toward the nose, my gun pointed in front of me. I moved the curtain of the shower to find a boy about my age curled into a ball under the shower head. I sighed and put my gun away, helping the kid up.
"Name?"
"Mine or his?" he sniffled.
"Yours, I couldn't give two shits of the dead guy’s name."
"Well I do," he growled.
I scoffed and rolled my eyes, "I'm the one with the gun, start talking."
"My name is Johnathan O'Riley," he nodded towards the dead guy. "That's my brother, Gerald."
I nodded, "And who killed him?"
"I did."
"Why?" I asked.
"He was going to kill a girl, a little girl that was only twelve. I couldn't let him do it."
I sighed, looking at my uncle, "I have to take him, don't I?"
He nodded, "O'Riley is the boss name. He probably knows a lot about this branch of the Irish mod."
"Fuck," I groaned.
"Carlos will love him."
"Carlos loves anything with a dick," I snapped, never embarrassed to talk about such things.
Johnathan blushed, "You are vulgar."
I let out a dry laugh, "No, I'm truthful, there's a difference."
There was faint gun shot in the distance. I quickly grabbed Johnathan with my left hand and my gun with my right. I pushed Johnathan out the door quickly, my gun resting on his shoulder. I steered him out of the small house quickly, needing to get him out of New York.
I pushed him to the ground as a bullet sailed close to his arm and grazed my shoulder. I shot the gun and hit the guy in the shoulder, remembering that I was to kill no one. I made sure that it was the joint I shot. If he got immediate medical attention, he should live, but it would take longer to heal and it would hurt like a bitch.
Another guy, with an automatic this time, came around the corner. People were scattering to get away. Someone was calling the cops, but I would be long gone before they could even get a block away. I shot the guy's trigger hand and he screamed in pain. I then shot his leg, aiming for him major artery, 'cause he pissed me off by bringing that automatic out and pointing it at me.
I helped Johnathan up and pushed him into the alley, where my uncle was waiting with a car. I pushed him into he back seat, telling him to stay on the floor. I slammed the door shut, and climbed into the passenger's seat.
My uncle drove us to the nearest airport, where a private jet was going to take us back to the school. My uncle went up the stairs first and I stuck Johnathan in the middle.
When I got on the jet, I went straight to the small fridge and grabbed the first thing I saw, which happened to be a cucumber. I looked at it and shrugged before eating it. Then, I went to bathroom and looked threw the drawers, the cucumber hanging in my mouth. I found the first aid kit and brought it out to my uncle. He took a gauze pad, some tape and a needle with thread still in it.
I took off my shirt and continued to eat my cucumber as he stitched me up. I twitched a couple times, but that's about it. I looked at my shoulder and saw that the wound was close to the joint. They weren't aiming at Johnathan. They were aiming at me.
I growled and continued to chew on my cucumber.
"They weren't in your family's mob, were they?"
He shook his head. "No."
I looked at my uncle. "How did they find us?"
He shrugged, "I have no idea. I'll call your parents."
I gagged and ate the rest of my cucumber. "Can't we just kill 'em?" I whined.
"No," my uncle said in a monotone voice.
"Fine," I groaned. "But I still don't know how they figured out who I was."
"Leak?" he asked.
I shook my head, "No one that knows would do that." I grabbed a pair of my cousin's new uniform. "He's about Jamie's size, right?"
My uncle nodded, "About. Yeah."
I threw the clothes at him. "Put these on, I'll have someone bring some more clothes for the party we have. Would you rather have skinny jeans or regular jeans?"
"Skinny, please," he said quietly.
"You're a junior, right?"
"Yeah."
I nodded, "Okay. I think my cousin wears girl's jeans so I'm sorry if the crotch is a bit tight."
"It's fine."
I nodded and plopped onto the seat next to my uncle. I sighed and stared down at my pink, plaid skirt, my black ballet flats and white blouse fitting with the skirt nicely. For every class year, from seventh to senior in high school has its own color, yellow for seventh, green for eighth, purple for ninth, pink for tenth, gray for eleventh, and blue for twelfth. I was a sophomore, so I was pink. Johnathan was a junior, so he was gray.
He came out of the bathroom as we started our descent to the air strip. I sighed as we came to a stop. I opened the door and the stairs were put there by a trainee. I nodded to them and walked down the steps. I stopped at the bottom when I saw my sister at the car with a smirk on her face.
"What?" I hissed, pushing Johnathan into the car.
"You have a new niece."
"Okay. So?"
"She is gonna be a better spy than you."
I looked at the ground in frustration than to my sister, "So you want her to end up like me?"
"She'll be better," she spat.
"Donna!" I exclaimed, frustrated at her thought process. "Stop being a fucking dictator over your child that is only four days old. She's gonna rebel and I'll be more than happy to welcome her with opened arms."
She let out a shrill laugh, making her look even more like our mother. The black hair and brown eyes made her look plain. Her five foot seven height made her even more average. She hated it, as did the other two triplets, Debbie and Daisy. They were plain, which is why they rarely had any missions. It was hard to be an agent when you have little experience and were so low on the food chain.
"She'll never know about you."
I smirked, "All kids raised in this lifestyle know about me."
"But you're not real."
"Wrong," I whispered, taking a step towards her. "Now come near me again, and I'll blow all your little covers. And I'm sure the CIA would love you then." I went to the back door of the car and turned back to her. "Are you still doing things under the radar?"
She huffed as I got in the car. It's been a good morning.

"Welcome to Howard Academy for Special or Political Young Students," the head mistress said, opening the large doors to our school.
Most kids lived less than twenty miles away from the school, so only about fifteen percent of the students stayed on campus. At least, they used to, until they started letting more than just CIA and FBI in about three years before. Then, they let boys in and that lowered it to only about twelve percent that didn’t live in the dorms.
I sat from my spot on the top of the wall as everyone scrambled to get inside. I saw Johnathan being escorted to the headmistress for instatement by my uncle and a guard.
Someone sat next to me, which was impressive, seeing as how the wall was over twenty feet tall and had booby traps on random bricks. I ignored the person until I couldn't stand their stare on my face.
"State your name, rank and business here before I push you off this wall and see if you can fly."
The deep chuckle told me it was a male who next to me. "Valentine Wright," British. "Junior, level seven clearance and I just saw a beautiful girl sitting up on this wall and wanted to say hi."
I giggled and flipped my hair. I bit my lip and started to twirl my hair as I looked up at him. "Really?"
The smirk that he wore grew. "Of course."
"Jen! Get your ass down here and leave the fresh meat alone!" my uncle yelled.
This time, I smirked. I leaned over him, my face getting closer to his. I used my right arm to go across him, close to his left hip. I pushed the brick down, making a stair case appear out of the wall. I chuckled as he moved in for a kiss.
"As if," I scoffed, walking down the steps. I turned as I got to the bottom step. "You might wanna come down now, orientation starts in five minutes and it takes six to get down without the stairs. And that's if you don't die."
He smirked at me and walked down the stairs. He passed me as the stairs started to disappear. He did a fly by and put a note in my underwear. I rolled my eyes and walked to the orientation hall.
"Everyone take your seat," a voice boomed from the PA.
I went to the side of the stage and sat on the steps. The headmistress started talking and I zoned out but still listened for my name and the new teachers and all that.
"I want all you girls to meet the top boy from Gadwall Academy for Boys. The school was closed after an unfortunate explosion. Here is Mister Valentine Wright."
There were some claps, but mostly swoony sighs from the girl who have never seen a guy before. I rolled my eyes.
"I'm pleased to introduce to all the boys from Gadwall, the top girl from Howard Academy, Jen Morley."
I stood up and put on the fake smile I had perfected at the age or eleven. I waved and tried to ignore the stared that were only interested in my bare legs. I got to the podium and put my hands where no one could see them. I turned the ring on my left middle finger until a barely audible click sounded in my ear.
"Ring!" Mr. DeWitt, the chemistry/engineer teacher, bellowed, marching up the steps. I sighed and disarmed the ring. I put it in his hand and he took by the arm. "You own me two new serums."
"For?" I asked with a bored tone as he took me down the steps and out of the orientation hall.
He let go of my arm and shrugged, "Nothing, but I need to use you as a guinea pig."
"For?"
"Jamie's new truth serum. It should work better. You can't get around the truth like you did last time, or at least, you're not supposed to."
“Wait,” I said. “We need to stop off at headmistress’ office. I need to threaten at new kid.”
We turned down the main hall and turned to the first door on the right. I opened the door, not even caring if someone would get mad and leaving Mr. DeWitt in the hall. I saw Johnathan sitting on the couch in front of the window that showed the court yard.
“You know that if you ever call me Gwen here,” I started in a low voice. “I will personally make sure you’re never seen again.”
He nodded stiffly and I smiled at him. I turned and walked out of the room.