I'm a Hero | Teen Ink

I'm a Hero

April 1, 2014
By ThereseVidal11 SILVER, Coral Gables, Florida
ThereseVidal11 SILVER, Coral Gables, Florida
6 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"In the end, it's not going to matter how many breaths you took, but how many moments took your breath away."


"The subway car screeched to a halt in front of my terminal and I began to grab my belongings. I scurried towards the open subway doors and made my way to a seat along the back wall of the car. Soon after, an unknown phone number called me letting me know that my mother had been in a car accident and died on impact. I hung up the phone in a cold sweat and swiftly made my way out of the car before the doors closed. Walking out, my mind was running in circles. How could mother have died? I considered the possibility that this could be a mistake and clung onto this shred of hope. Once I was by the staircase, to make my way back above ground, I heard a boom. I was engulfed by an overwhelming warmth and forced against the staircase. With both my empty hands, I held onto the railing for my life. Then I woke up here, in this hospital bed. Officer, I promise you that is everything I remember." I whimpered.

Did I really appear guilty? Do I, a 28 year old woman, look capable of such destruction? Maybe I did. Little does this officer know I am part of the CIA; if only I could tell him that. I would probably be able to escape any further questioning.

The officer walked out of my bland hospital room, leaving me alone. The IV drip hung next to me and the walls were all the same dull white. I watched a doctor outside my door pick up a new chart at the counter. My whole body ached and my ears were still ringing. As my body began to recover, I tried to move but I was restrained. My wrists were tied to the railing of the bed by a handcuff. A handcuff? Do they really think I did this? I had just found out my mother had died. I was distraught, unfocused, shaken, but how could I appear to be a killer? The CIA will plead my innocence alongside me. I will be okay.

The police officer that questioned me before was outside my room's window talking to two other officers. Each had a cup of coffee in their hand and began to raise their voices. I could barely make out what they were saying but I caught on to enough to understand that there were two other suspects in the investigation. They were in the rooms on either side of me. At that moment I felt a wave of relief. My hands unclenched from my sides and I knew that amongst these other two people a young woman like me could not seem guilty. I needed to plea my innocence and free myself from any possible charges.

I glanced upward at the window to see if the officers were still there and one of them began to walk towards my door.
"Hello officer, may I help you?" I said.
"Yes you can. I have a few more questions to ask you." He replied.
"Ask away." I responded.
"Where were you going on the subway this morning?" He asked.
"I was on my way to work." I answered.
"And what do you do for a living Ms. James?" He questioned.
"I'm sorry officer but that is classified information. I can tell you that I work in the government building downtown, but that is all I can say." I said.
"Oh I see." He commented.

At that moment, he grabbed his pad of paper and began to write. I tried to make out what he was writing, but it was impossible.
"That will be all for now Ms. James. Thank you for your cooperation." He said.
"Anytime." I responded.

As he left the room, I finally caught my breath and my body began to relax. I have to get out of here. Pulling on the hand cuffs was no use. My wrists began to bleed because of all the force I used to try and escape. Then it hit me, I have a bobby pin in my hair. I bent down enough so that I could grab the bobby pin out of my head and use it to pick the lock. The bobby pin slid out of my hair and into my hand. It fit perfectly into the key hole and only took a few jerks and twists to get it unlocked. My bleeding wrist was finally free, but as soon as I began to get up the officer walked back into my room followed by two other patients. I jumped back into the bed and slid my hand into the open cuff just to make it seem like I hadn't escaped. These two people must be the two other suspects. Why did he bring them here? What kind of questioning involves putting all the suspects in one room together?
"Hello Ms. James, this is Mr. Hamilton and Mr. White. They are the two other suspects in the bombing." the officer said.

After he had finished speaking two nurses rolled in a television.
"We have the footage from the bombing and decided it would be best to watch it with all the suspects." The officer added.

This was it, I would be proven innocent.
"How did the cameras record any footage if they were probably burned in the explosion?" Mr. Hamilton asked.

He is making himself seem guilty. The officer is going to assume it was him after a question like that. I will be home free in a matter of minutes.
"They are made to last through these kinds of situations." The officer responded.

The video began to play and everyone grew silent. On the screen I saw the subway car come to a halt at our terminal. The point of view of the camera changed and then we saw the people in the terminal. There I saw myself, Mr. Hamilton, Mr. White, and other passengers. Mr. White was the first to mount the subway, carrying with him a brown suitcase. Next was Mr. Hamilton who stepped on to the subway car with his backpack, dressed in exercise clothing. Finally, after the majority of the other passengers boarded the subway I finally got in with my backpack. After a few seconds of nothing happening on the screen I saw myself run back out of the car without it. Of course I would look guilty. How could I be so stupid? How could I be so naive? The subway doors shut and the screen went black. Mr. Hamilton, Mr. White, and the officer were looking at me suspiciously and I knew I had to move.

I jumped up from my bed and towards the officers holster. Grabbing his gun before he could, I kept it pointed at his forehead.
"Say a word and I will shoot." I began, "So what? I blew up a subway car. I just saved the lives of Americans everywhere."

I ran out of the hospital room with the gun in my hand. Anyone who attempted to get near me had a gun aimed at their forehead. In the hall two police officers began to approach me, each with a gun. I knew I had to scare them off so I shot upwards towards the roof and ran despite the chaos. If only they knew that I had to do it. On that subway car was an actual terrorist who was going to send the okay to other terrorists around America to set off their bombs. Being part of the CIA comes with certain responsibilities and I felt that the CIA was not living up to them. They knew of this man but asserted that they did not have enough evidence to pursue him. How could I let this man kill so many people? I sacrificed a few lives for the greater good. I did the right thing. But now I have to run.

The gun began to slip in my hands as my palms grew sweatier. By the time I was at the front door I was surrounded by police officers. I knew what I had to do. If I had even tried to shoot I would have been gunned down that second, but if another sort of chaos had commenced I could escape. In the corner of the room I saw a fire alarm. I had to set it off but how was I going to do that?

"Ms. James put down the gun!" Yelled one of the officers.

I was not going to surrender, I have gotten so far. Before he could speak again, I quickly lifted the gun and aimed it at the fire alarm and shot. Shots flew but so far I had been sparred. The sprinklers went off and the alarm was blaring. All the officers looked around confused. At that moment, I ran out of the hospital doors. My heart was beating out of my chest and my hand was red from how tight I was holding onto the gun. I knew I would have to live on the run but I had made it for now. I was free and I had saved so many lives. I am a hero. This is not that last time I will do what the CIA or the police can not. I will make sure Americans are properly taken care of. I'm Americas hero, and if a few lives have to be spared, so be it. I am a hero and I will prevail.



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