My Mission is Simple (part 2) | Teen Ink

My Mission is Simple (part 2)

May 23, 2012
By Flubiawesome SILVER, Evergreen, Colorado
Flubiawesome SILVER, Evergreen, Colorado
9 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
Horses live their own lives but nonetheless allow is to share it. <br /> It is possible to spend one&#039;s life without horses, but it isn&#039;t worth it.


I could see the light through the shade of my eyelids. I was awake, just no ready to be. I don't remember much and I really needed time to myself. I don't recall what happened past my fall. Well I do remember the horse and the boy's face. That’s right. The boys face. Did he ever help me? Did he turn me in? Where am I right now? In the police station, maybe. I don't want to find out. But I have to.
Cautiously, I opened my left eye half way and looked around. I let out a deep breath. Thank goodness. This wasn’t the police station. I was in a small wooden room with one window. Both eyes were open now. I was in a bed with sheets and a quilt. I felt over the covers with my feet. My boots were gone and my jacket was missing. Even my hair was undone from its usual braid.
I sat up stiffly. There was a fireplace in the right corner and a door in the left. Next to the door was a sofa with a sleeping bag halfway on it. Someone had been sleeping here. I quickly threw the sheets off me and dashed out of bed. I found my jacket and boots beside the fireplace. I threw my jacket over my shoulder and began to untie my boots. I need to get out of here. Fast.
“I see someone is up bright eyed and bushy tailed,” I heard a voice from behind me. I froze but quickly stuffed my hand in my jean pockets. They were empty. I usually carried a knife with me everywhere. I gritted my teeth and spun around to face whoever was there.
I stopped when I saw someone leaning in the door way casually with a wide smile spread across their face. It was the boy. His blonde hair fell in wisps over his forehead and his eyes danced with emotion. I couldn’t help but feel a bit annoyed. I didn’t relax until he spoke again, “Hey, I ain’t gonna turn you in.”
He shuffled around in his pocket for a second. When he gripped whatever he was searching for he tossed it in my direction. I snatched it out of the air and looked it over in my palm. It was my knife. I ran my thumb across its shiny blade.
“Took it away from you. Thought you might hurt someone with it,” He said sarcastically, “You feel better?” He walked towards the sofa and brushed the sleeping bag onto the floor and sat down. He put his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. He was so calm. Why was I so tense? I’m not the one who has a random person in their house that happens to be an assassin.
“You sure look better that when I first met you,” He didn’t wait for my reply, “That’s reminds me. We haven’t formally met yet. I’m Quinn,” He extended his hand toward me and looked me right in the eye. He had deep blue eyes that seemed to pierce deep inside me. I hesitated. Why wasn’t he scared of me?
“Hey, I understand. I wouldn’t trust a stranger if I were you,” yea and he’s the one talking, “I mean not in the trouble you’re in. At least tell me your name.”
“Caprice,” I said curtly. My voice didn’t sound right. Too girlish and vulnerable. I gave him an icy glare just to keep the affect. He didn’t do so much as flinch.
“Well, nice to finally meet you. You were out cold for at least three days. Found you pretty beat up at my door step. I don’t have company much so when you showed up all bloody and groggy I was tempted to shoot you. How old are you? Can’t be any older than 16,” He answered his own questions and this bugged me. He sat back and crossed his legs.
“Do you like my handiwork on that gash of yours? Well I guess you don’t remember that too much, you were out by then. Hard as a rock. You hit your head on the edge of the table and earned yourself a heck of a gash from your temple to your chin. You’re lucky it didn’t kill ya,” Gash? My hands flew up to my head. I felt over the wrap that incased my head from my chin to my forehead, “It can probably come off in a couple more days.”
“You’d better sit down. You’re looking awfully pale. I don’t want to have you unconscious on my floor again,” He sure did talk a lot. I did as I was told and sat on the edge of the bed. We stayed there in an awkward silence for a few minutes. He was obviously caught in a deep thought all of a sudden. Finally, I couldn’t take it any longer and broke the silence.
“Did they come here?” I asked in a rush. My words were slurred but somehow he could understand.
“The fellas in the nice outfits?” I nodded, “Yep,” He replied as if it was nothing. My eyes widened and I could feel the blood drain from my face.
“Hey relax, I didn’t tell them that you were here,” He said once he noticed my panic, “You must be in some deep trouble to have those guys after you. You musta killed someone.”
“What makes you think that?” I snapped back.
“You told me,” Quinn continued.
“And when was that?” I demanded.
“You talk an awful lot in your sleep,” He answered my question partly but I got the just of it. I blushed. What all did I tell him?
“And what’s it to you?” I spat.
“Well, I just happened to hear it all from this couch. You seriously are in big trouble,” His face became serious all of a sudden. His eyes switched from a playful version to a demanding and grim atmosphere. My face got softer as my grimace disappeared. Why was he so in tune to my story?
“I’d better get going,” I said and stood up.
“Caprice,” That’s all he said. That one simple word pulled me back onto the bed and faced me towards Quinn. That one word opened my mouth and made me say something that could end my life right then and there.
“I am an assassin.”


The author's comments:
This is part two of the first part. The first part was voted number one! Woot! Thanks so much! Sorry, this part isn't as action packed as I would like it. But you gotta explain whats going on somewhere!
And the picture doesn't really match the atmosphere of the article, but I needed a blonde boy!

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