dreamergirl572-blog

[dreamergirl572-blog]

Without Regret

  “I want to be an agent.” I heard myself say in a foolishly confident tone, “I can handle it. If you won’t let me go home, I might as well make a difference!”

 “I don’t think you understand what it means to be in this business, we could get you relocated to a new home with a new identity-”

 I cut the woman off, “I can help! Agents give up their normal life to help other people, right? I’m already giving up my old identity, I might as well stay here.” In a sudden flash, I was standing in my San Francisco apartment, watching my past self sobbing on the floor. The girl that I saw on the floor fit in perfectly with the damp decor of the room. My heart lurched with each muffled cry that escaped her mouth. Her words resonating in my ears, “I murdered him.”

“I murdered him.”

I murdered him.

 I sat up in a sweat, trying desperately to collect my bearings. I just had another nightmare, it was nothing new. I just had to calm down. Desperate to drown out the words ringing in my head, I reached over to my nightstand and flicked on the radio. Today, my assignment was not the usual assassination or escort. I was supervising a new agent’s first mission. Thinking about it brought me back to my first time on the field, the twenty-two-year-old woman who was ecstatic at the chance to prove herself.

 I slid my legs off the bed and stood, stretching my arms and checking the time. 4:20 am. With a sigh, I hauled myself to the kitchen and started the coffee maker. 

Over the past couple of years, I had grown rather apathetic to my missions. To put it bluntly, I was done with caring. After the amount of unjust murder and pain I had seen and caused, I learned that it’s better to shut it out. I was naive when I started, and I knew that the newbie would most likely be the same way. Regardless of what happened though, I had to put my life first.

This was going to be a long morning.

*     *     *

 At precisely 6:30 am, I casually staggered through the doors to the rooftop, expecting to meet the new agent. Instead, I made eye contact with a teenage girl who looked to be maybe 16 or 17 years old.

Before I could utter a word, she blurted, “You must be my supervisor! I’m Catherine, but you can call me Cat.”

I silently prayed to the Lord that this was not happening. This girl was still a child for God’s sake! Her chin-length black hair and petite figure were almost identical to mine. Her pure brown eyes radiated the innocence that I used to possess. The excitement was visible on her petite figure. I saw my twenty-two-year-old self in this girl, and it scared me to death.

This girl, this kitten, was not fit to be an agent. “Fantastic, call me Smiley. Keep in mind that my only job is to ensure that your task is completed, the rest is all on you.”

“Don’t worry Smiley, I know what I’m doing!”

I returned her smile with a curt nod. I held wristwatch up to my mouth and, after reciting a short code sequence, I lowered my arm and turned up the sound.

The speaker began at once, “For your assignment, you will be eliminating a target who betrayed our agency. This will require in-depth planning as well as quick-thinking skills. You have until midnight to complete this task, otherwise, your employment will be terminated. Your supervisor will transport you anywhere that you would like to go until your mission report is submitted. We will send you a copy of his apartment floor plan as well as the target’s whereabouts during the day.” There was a beep before the watch went silent. My eyes wandered to Cat’s face and settled grimly on her empty gaze.

“We’d better get going then,” I prompted.

“Yeah.”

The trek to the ground floor was silent and uncomfortable. I repeated to myself over and over again, worrying about this girl would be too much for me. I don’t worry about other people anyway. She just reminds me of myself, that’s all. But as we walked down the stairs, I kept sneaking glances at the pitiful figure of the former bundle of excitement.

After an eternity, we reached the ground level of the building. It was a rather nice looking office building and for the first time in years, I took in the scenery. It looked formal and I could smell a slight lavender in the air. I was still distracted when I felt a tap on the back of my head.

“Hellooo? Anybody home in there?” Cat’s voice was surprisingly sing-songy and cheerful.

I about-faced and peered at her, pathetically giggling as if she had just told the funniest joke. I couldn’t hold back my amusement when I replied, “Nope.”

“Then I guess I’m on my own! Bon voyage, Madam Smiley.”

She doubled over laughing, and I cracked a smile at her. After she calmed down, we wandered to my vehicle and I slid into the driver’s seat. I reached over to switch into reverse when Cat grabbed my hand. I looked curiously at her and was met with panicked eyes.

“Nervous?” She nodded and opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. “I… I wish that there was something I could say to comfort you, but all I can say is that you’ll get used to it eventually.”

“I didn’t think that my first assignment would be murder.” Her voice was almost a whisper.

I murdered him.

 I shook my head and turned back to the wheel. I knew that I couldn’t, or shouldn’t, help her. But as I drove, I began to brood over ways to get Cat out of the agency. She hasn’t started a mission yet, so she isn’t in very deep. They wouldn’t look very hard for her if she disappeared… But she’d need a new identity and she’d have to be long gone by the time that her mission time frame was up… and I’d be dead by morning. Helping her was out of the cards.

*     *     *

 It was with a heavy detachment that I made an excuse to stop by my apartment. I ignored her concerned glances, and I remained indifferent when she asked where we were going. Upon arriving, I hurried inside to grab an emergency bag. I observed my home once more before returning to the car. The rest of our ride was silent with Cat working on her laptop and myself lost in thought. I navigated the city streets with ease; the address we were assigned to was on the corner of a busy road. I parked the car on the roadside in front of the apartment complex and stepped out, crossing to the passenger’s side of the car.

 “Thanks,” Cat faltered, “Smiley.”

 “Sofia, Kitten. It’s Sofia.” I grabbed her hand and squeezed it before letting her lead the way. Like a mouse, she made her way to the back of the building started up the fire escape. Every step of hers was silent, and I followed at a slower pace. In broad daylight, the girl reminded me of a black alley cat, prowling for its next meal.

 Cat stopped beside the window of the target’s apartment and pulled a switchblade from the inside belt of her pants. Opening the window, she slipped into the apartment and looked around. From where I was at the window, the room appeared empty. Every so slowly, the girl crossed to a closed-door that I presumed to be a bedroom or office.

 Before she could react, the door flung open in her face and knocked her to the ground. The man responsible jumped in surprise, looking at the girl on the floor. As I saw him lay eyes on the switchblade, I raced through the window and toward him with thundering footsteps. Cat couldn’t compete with a former agent without the element of surprise.

 So I body-slammed him into the door and grabbed both of his arms, twisting them behind his back. Cat rose to help and I shook my head.

 “Go to the car and you’ll find a small, velveteen purse,” I choked out, “Inside is everything you will need to leave. Use the passport, ID, or even cash to get yourself as far away as you can-”

 “Why now? I can do this, I can do my job!”

 “Take it from me, living as an agent is hardly living at all.” The man was struggling against my hold, so I knew that I had to hurry the conversation, “Let me do the right thing, at least one more time before I disappear.”

 She was silent for a moment before pleading, “Then come with me, when you’re done here.” I looked at her, once more seeing a younger version of myself, imploring me to try to start again.

 I nodded and she smiled, sliding herself back out of the window. I focused my attention back on the man I was holding hostage. Turning him around, I headbutted him unconscious and dropped him to the floor. Without much more thought, I rushed out of the window and back to the car. Cat was waiting in the passenger’s seat for me, and I knew at that moment that for the first time in years, I had done the right thing.

I could once again, in good conscience, go back to being Sofia Miyard.

[dreamergirl572-blog]

After Dark

The light outside was starting to disappear, and as usual, my mind started to kick into overdrive. I couldn’t, or wouldn’t, stop thinking. By this point in my life, my overthinking was a habit that I was comfortable in, and it still truthfully remains a problem.

That night in specific was much worse than usual. Many small things from the day had added up and I was ready to break at any moment. That’s when my friend called me, and for this story, we’ll call him Drew. Due to how distracted I’d been during the day, I hadn’t messaged him like I usually did. He told me that he was concerned about me, and we talked until I was calmed down and feeling much better. An hour had gone by before I realized that I had to go for the evening.

After saying goodnight, I went upstairs to eat dinner with my family. It was much more relaxed than usual since my mother was too tired to talk and we were all ready to call it a night. As I was plugging in my phone to go to sleep, I decided to send Drew a message about how much I appreciated his help earlier. Almost immediately I received a response from him, stating that he’d gladly do it any time and that he understood since he also had something on his mind. Out of curiosity, I asked him if he wanted to talk about it with someone, and he responded with a yes.

I regrettably admit that his next message didn’t shock me. Though I hadn’t known Drew for very long yet, I knew that he had been diagnosed with severe depression a couple of years prior. I also knew that for the past week, he had been getting progressively worse.

That’s why when he sent a text saying that he was ready to end it all, I knew that the clock had started ticking.

Drew wasn’t the kind of person to say something like this for attention, so the situation had to be dire. However, since he lived two hours away from me, I couldn’t easily go talk to him in person. Not knowing what to do, I hurriedly went to the internet for advice. The first suggestion I saw was to call the crisis line but I quickly dismissed that. I didn’t know his last name or his address, so I couldn’t guarantee that they would be able to help him in time. The next suggestion was to tell a trusted adult about the situation, which I quickly considered.

In telling my parents about this, would I be betraying his trust in me? Acting fast was the most important thing to do at the time, but this question left me sitting at a crossroads. It felt like time slowed down as I shakily took a stand and walked to the kitchen. My mother was still cleaning up from dinner, but she noticed when I walked up to her. She must have read my mood like a book because the first thing she said was ‘What’s wrong?’

I could almost hear the subtle ticking on my time, so I rushed to show her the text. The confusion on her face morphed into understanding. She told me that she would be making phone calls to try to find his information. In the meantime, she urged me to call him and keep him on the line. I immediately rushed to do so, knowing that he would still be awake, hoping that he’d still be available.

He picked up on the second ring and answered with a quiet hello. I knew this wasn’t like him, and he sounded apprehensive to be talking at all. I can recall my prompt response, trying to quickly change the subject from the message he knew that I’d seen. The idea of trying to talk about things he enjoyed crossed my mind, and I started to talk. At the beginning of our conversation, he wasn’t speaking much. All he would respond was a brief ‘yeah’ or ‘okay’.

About thirty minutes of conversation had passed with little feedback from him before his tone started to change. We were talking about musicals that we had been in, and he began to open up again. The tense atmosphere around me started to lift, and relief replaced my worry. It wasn’t long before he was singing again. Meanwhile, my mother had found enough information to contact the crisis hotline for help.

It was starting to sink in that we would still be talking when emergency services arrived at his house. A horrible feeling settled in my gut that he’d feel betrayed when he found out. It felt as if a new clock was ticking, a timer that would ring when he found out. Out of the blue, I heard an actual timer go off through the phone. What was that?

He profusely apologized and turned it off. When I inquired about it, he vaguely stated that it was to wake him up if we were asleep so that he could do something. He then changed the subject, maintaining that whatever he was going to do wasn’t important anymore. It didn’t take long to determine what the timer had been for.

For the next while, he was using his Amazon Echo to play upbeat show tunes. We were having a great time, singing along and laughing at our poor attempts to sing the correct words. The dread from earlier had once again subsided, and for the time being, all was well.

At least, it was until I heard his mother speaking. He said that he had to go, and promptly hung up. That was when my internal timer went off.

The rest of the night was a blur for me. My family told me that I had done the right thing and that I most likely saved his life. I knew that, logically, it was better to lose him temporarily rather than forever. Despite that, I couldn’t calm my racing mind.

It was a couple of days before I heard from him again. Everything went back to normal, and I knew that I made the right decision. Even now, we’re still close friends and he’s continuing to get better. I know I saved his life that night. He’s always there for me when I need it, so I can be there for him, too.

[dreamergirl572-blog]

Hey there!

I’m Dreamer, and I’m currently a student. This account is going to be where I upload assignments from my creative writing class, and any feedback is appreciated! Keep in mind that I’m not great with all genres, and I am a beginner at creative writing.

I hope you stay awhile to read a couple of my stories!