Status: So very inactive.
The Children's Crusade
The Target
Name: Jessica Alri Harlow
Important: Legal Adult, if found DO NOT TURN INTO CPS. CALL OFFICERS.
Current Age: Fourteen
Date Of Birth: October 3rd 1997
Place of Birth: Chicago Illinois, USA
Date of Enrollment: 2000
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Officer(s): Henry L. Wright | Lukas A. Shore
Height: 5”2
Weight: 100lbs
Hair Color: Black
Nationality: 1/16th Scott, pale complextion.
Eye Color: Blue
Birth Marks/Tattoos/Piercings: None
Psychological Status: Stable. No Existing Issues
Training: Karate, Various Martial Arts, Boxing, Ten self defense courses, Target practice, Archery, Excellent Swordsmen ship. Black belt in all Martial arts.
Education: Kindergarden-College
Mother: Lily Addison Harlow
Father: Jason Andrew Harlow
Sister(s): None
Brother(s): None
Contract Expiration Date: October 3rd 2015
I go over the extensive papers that I'm required to keep with me, they describe everything about me. They know things about me that I wouldn't know. At the bottom of the last one was my signature. They had spent hours with me when I was only four, hours teaching me how to sign my name. Mother had already signed me over, but my signature was required after they had drawn up the legal papers, making me an adult at only four.
Them being USI. I was never told why I was handed over to USI, never told why I had to begin training in the deadly arts when I was three years old. I have a proficiency in over fifty guns, but beneath my All Time Low hoodie (I don't even know who All Time Low is, I don't have time for music.) is only a white tanktop. I can't carry guns into the Museum. I make due, but feel vulnerable.
My target is Steven Green, he's been seen buying large amounts of chemicals key in making explosives. He is now a danger.
The museum of natural science is going on quietly around me as I'm seated on an uncomfortable wooden bench. My fingers are stabbing at the buttons of a cheapy cellphone, my face looks frustrate. If someone asks, I'll say that my mom said she'd pick me up, but she's late.
But I haven't seen my mom in eleven years and three days. Today is my birthday, I will be fifteen at 3:28PM. There will not be a celebration, there never is.
I check my watch, it's noon. Steven Green is peering at a display of strange insects, his hands are stuffed in the pockets of his own hoodie.
Steven Green is twenty-six years old, he's recently been fired at his job for stealing merchandise. He worked at a gas station. He lives by himself, no girlfriend. Or boyfriend. Or cat.
I grunt at my cellphone as it jingles that annoying little tune.
Keep your eyes on the target.
I flip off the phone's screen, I know that Henry has hacked into the Museums security. He and Lukas are my USI Officers, they're in charge of me. They have their own target, but they keep watch of me. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. And creeped out.
Steven is making his way to the bathroom. The men's bathroom is, as customary, right across from the women's bathroom. I love this setup, it's convenient.
I grunt once again at my phone before shoving it into my jeans pocket and swaggering over to the insect display. Once there. I count the seconds, making sure not to make it obvious that I'm following the man.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Important: Legal Adult, if found DO NOT TURN INTO CPS. CALL OFFICERS.
Current Age: Fourteen
Date Of Birth: October 3rd 1997
Place of Birth: Chicago Illinois, USA
Date of Enrollment: 2000
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Officer(s): Henry L. Wright | Lukas A. Shore
Height: 5”2
Weight: 100lbs
Hair Color: Black
Nationality: 1/16th Scott, pale complextion.
Eye Color: Blue
Birth Marks/Tattoos/Piercings: None
Psychological Status: Stable. No Existing Issues
Training: Karate, Various Martial Arts, Boxing, Ten self defense courses, Target practice, Archery, Excellent Swordsmen ship. Black belt in all Martial arts.
Education: Kindergarden-College
Mother: Lily Addison Harlow
Father: Jason Andrew Harlow
Sister(s): None
Brother(s): None
Contract Expiration Date: October 3rd 2015
I go over the extensive papers that I'm required to keep with me, they describe everything about me. They know things about me that I wouldn't know. At the bottom of the last one was my signature. They had spent hours with me when I was only four, hours teaching me how to sign my name. Mother had already signed me over, but my signature was required after they had drawn up the legal papers, making me an adult at only four.
Them being USI. I was never told why I was handed over to USI, never told why I had to begin training in the deadly arts when I was three years old. I have a proficiency in over fifty guns, but beneath my All Time Low hoodie (I don't even know who All Time Low is, I don't have time for music.) is only a white tanktop. I can't carry guns into the Museum. I make due, but feel vulnerable.
My target is Steven Green, he's been seen buying large amounts of chemicals key in making explosives. He is now a danger.
The museum of natural science is going on quietly around me as I'm seated on an uncomfortable wooden bench. My fingers are stabbing at the buttons of a cheapy cellphone, my face looks frustrate. If someone asks, I'll say that my mom said she'd pick me up, but she's late.
But I haven't seen my mom in eleven years and three days. Today is my birthday, I will be fifteen at 3:28PM. There will not be a celebration, there never is.
I check my watch, it's noon. Steven Green is peering at a display of strange insects, his hands are stuffed in the pockets of his own hoodie.
Steven Green is twenty-six years old, he's recently been fired at his job for stealing merchandise. He worked at a gas station. He lives by himself, no girlfriend. Or boyfriend. Or cat.
I grunt at my cellphone as it jingles that annoying little tune.
Keep your eyes on the target.
I flip off the phone's screen, I know that Henry has hacked into the Museums security. He and Lukas are my USI Officers, they're in charge of me. They have their own target, but they keep watch of me. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. And creeped out.
Steven is making his way to the bathroom. The men's bathroom is, as customary, right across from the women's bathroom. I love this setup, it's convenient.
I grunt once again at my phone before shoving it into my jeans pocket and swaggering over to the insect display. Once there. I count the seconds, making sure not to make it obvious that I'm following the man.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.