Last year, my science teacher told me that if you put the right kind of pressure on a lump of coal it would turn into a diamond. As that may be for coal, it appears to be the opposite for people. I came into the office a shimmering diamond and came out a sad block of charcoal. The hood of my gray jacket flaps on my head as I walk out of the office. I notice the lady that looks like big sister, Lucy, sitting in the chair I was sitting in while I was waiting for the principal. She looks more organized than she did earlier. She was looking less like a wanna-be college girl and more like a professional college professor. I notice she is looking at an object in my direction, and then she turns her head and looks directly at me. I move my eyes around in an attempt to avoid making eye contact; it didn't work. The lady, Lizzie, stepped off of her chair and onto the patched up carpet and started approaching me. I try to walk away but she is walking too fast. Eventually, she catches up to me.
“Quinn, we have a lot to discuss,” Lizzie says. She takes my arm and tugs me somewhere. I need to scream but for some reason, I don't. Eventually, she tugs me to a dark closet somewhere in the office. I notice the faint outline of some cleaning supplies; a fraying mop, floor polish, and a denim uniform with some needlework on it. It must be some kind of Janitor’s closet. She presses me against a shelf in the corner of the janitorial storage room and I hear the bottle of Magic clean bounce to the ground.
“Hello, I am Jane Hansen, please leave your questions until the end. I am an agent specializing in absconding teenagers out of the local phenomenon of terror we call the UTTG, or the Underground Teen Terror Group. We know you want your brother back.”
“What?” I say wheezing. Her thumbs are oppressed against my collarbone leaving a purple bruise as a remnant. My sentiments right now are pained and demented. There is a brief moment of uncomfortable silence. I can see Lizzie’s  Jane’s demanding expression through the light of the modest window near the ceiling. The sky was full of stratus clouds, threatening a storm, so the light from the window was minimal. I think through what I am going to reply with. It was probably a good two minutes of silence.
“My brother is dead, you must have the wrong Alex,” I say calmly yet shakingly. Alex, my brother, died in a “bonfire” 6 months 2 weeks and 4 days ago. I can still remember Dr. Henderson’s face when he told us Alex wasn’t going to make it.
“I’m just going out with a couple of friends to a bonfire in the woods,” Alex said before he left. We were all expecting a party with a couple of friends with a raging fire at a distance. It turned out the raging fire was not distant enough. I still do not know exactly what happened but the doctors made it clear that he was pretty dead; we went to his funeral and everything.
“How do I explain this?” Jane asked herself pacing around her mind. “Often, people get discovered when they join the UTTG. Through the years, the have resolved this problem by hiding their HQ down a hole or disguise it as a peeping ray of sun when really it is a portal. Occasionally though they get their portal found and the kids get identified as criminals by the agents on our side. Rumour has it that the UTTG has the same technology to clone people as we do.”
“Wait,  you clone people?” I say. I knew this girl was trouble when she somersaulted into the office like a tumbleweed with Lucy’s face on her.
“We don’t exactly clone people,” she continues. “We can make copies of other people’s faces and put them on someone else’s. For example, I’m wearing Lucy Harper’s face right now, if you haven’t already noticed. Lizzie Harp is just a fake name. I couldn’t be Jane in this situation.”
Like I didn’t notice! Lucy is my beloved sister. She could have her identity hacked. It is difficult enough to be a twenty-two-year-old student, but to have your face hacked! I think about just about a septillion things to respond, but I drop them all.
“To back the evidence of the UTTG having face printing technology or cloning up, we have found someone not from our side having the same face as you, Quinn. We assume she is from the UTTG. If she isn’t from there, then we don’t know what else to assume.”
At the moment I am speechless. Who bullied a seventh grader? Face print of Quinn. Who pushed the cheerleader off the top of the pyramid? Face print of Quinn. Everything is figured out, but I could never explain this to the principal. No one would believe me.
“So Alex is alive somewhere with another face on him?” I ask Jane requesting for an answer.
“Most likely if he is amidst the Underground Teen Terror Group. He might be at the UTTG headquarters which could literally be underground for all we know.” Jane says.
  I think about what she said just barely and what she said previously; her help would be meager at most. I would have to find Alex on my own. It is going to be dangerous and risky, with face flips and underground passageways, but I know I can do it.
“Thank you, for your help but I think I can do this on my own,” I say strongly as I reach for the handle of the closet door. Just before I leave I feel the presence of a hand grabbing at my wrist. The hand belongs to Jane.
“Hold on! I know one more thing.Where Brock’s Christmas Tree Farm gets their trees there is a dirt road, follow it. You know you followed the right path when you see a sign saying “no trespassing” or “dead end.” Keep walking until you find a dark area. It doesn’t matter if it is day, night, sunrise, or sunset it will always be dark, touch every tree in the dark forest and there should be a portal of light on the last tree which should get you to UTTG headquarters if they didn’t reset the code or change locations. This is confidential information, do not tell this to anyone!”
I am  astonished how she knows this! In shock, I leave the closet, Jane still in it. I walk out of the door and see Peterson. He probably said something like, “See you in detention Miss Harper!” or “Be more like your little sister, Faith, Quinn!” I don’t care what he said. Heck! I don’t care what anyone says; I want my brother back. They must have brainwashed him; made him think he needed to join to get something in return. He couldn’t have done this by himself. He was 17, at the top of his class. He was headed for Harvard, I just knew it! I walk out the door and head straight for the woods.

Finding where the tree farm gets their trees was a relatively simple task. My friend, Katie’s, aunt had worked there a few summers back. Getting to that location was harder. I decided the easiest way to reach the eerie forest was to walk. I find my school backpack, I won’t be using it for quite some time, and pack it with some essentials. My pack consisted of 11 water bottles, 2 loaves of bread, a spare change of clothes, some apples, some granola bars, a blanket, and a few other things. I told my sisters, Lucy and Faith, that I was having a sleepover at Katie’s house. Lucy seemed a little dubious but Faith bought the excuse. I headed out the door and was on my way.
Three days had passed and I had finally reached my destination. I see many rows and clusters of pine trees as well as bushes and squirrels. The sky is gray and dim, not good weather for walking. I feel the refreshing mountain air stroke my face, and for the first time on this expedition, I feel happy. I feel like Alex is just around the corner, and I’m going to find him and hug him again. The dream of this feeling is amazing, like dancing on a cloud. I skip up the hill, giddy with joy until I feel nerve-wracking feeling of someone behind me. I turn my head around and I see a girl behind me holding a knife. No that’s me carrying the knife. My mind is a puzzle trying to sort itself out. I am perplexed until I realize it is the UTTG face printed as me.

I gasp and try to spurt away from her. Help. Me. Now. I think to myself while sprinting to the portal. Out of the blue, a raging storm is painted across the sky. The overcast sky cries heavy tears of raindrops on the mountain and I. I try to continue running but the ground is too slick! I trip.
My attempts to climb out of the mud are no good. No matter how hard I try to push myself out of the dirt I won’t get out. I grunt frustratedly and glance up. A patch of forest coated in darkness is in front of me. My eyes quickly scurry to face printed Quinn. She is quite far behind me. I can army crawl my way to the portal. I don’t know how I’m going to hit the trees but I can figure it out. I crawl as swiftly as I can. Come on, Quinn, you can do it! I scream at myself in my mind. I keep repeating inspiring phrases in my head. Press Forward, Quinn. Go go go! I feel a sharp intense pain in my ankle. A knife! I clench my teeth and flip my head. It is face printed Quinn and… Jane! I go back to the day I met Jane. How peculiar our conversation was. The detailed instructions on how to get here. How could I have not realized this was a trap?
“Well look at that! Just as stupid as I thought!” Jane says in a matter-a-fact tone. Jane, if that is even her real name is dressed in skin-tight leather from her neck to her ankles. Her hair is in a sleek low ponytail and she has intense eye makeup adorning her eyelids. She pulls a small device out of her pocket. I notice the letters on it UTTG. I know this won’t end well. I say prayers inside my head.
“Let’s see who the real face of Quinn is!” Jane The leader of the UTTG says. She scans her own face revealing and crinkly old woman.
“Actually I changed my mind! We can wait to see who this Quinn faced person is.” The leader of the UTTG says. She places what appears to be a metal sheet on top of me. I try to brush it off, but it seemed to be glued to me. The old lady’s hand reached to the sky and a power streak of lightning is born from the sky. I’m in agonizing pain. I scream. I look at face flipped Quinn. The old woman scans her own face revealing Lucy’s face then scan’s “Quinn’s” face. Quinn turns to Alex. I see a big grin across both of their faces.
“Alex!” I cry. Lightning flashes across my eye. I feel myself become one with electricity. Lights flash once more into a sky of oblivion.