Here’s a story I wrote when I was in my early teens. I think it’s pretty amusing, so I’ll post it here. I apologize for the typos and stuff, I don’t have a beta reader and I’m shit when it comes to editing my own writing. =/
The Thirteen Reasons
- She dresses up in ninja goth fashion.
- She’s a mixed-martial arts black belt, and possibly a sniper.
- Admit it, she beat you senseless in the newest arcade game yesterday.
- She’s really hot and not much older than you.
- Even the school board chairman is scared to death of her.
- She can beat you drag racing.
- All of a sudden, bullies from other schools stop picking fights with you.
- She just donated a new skeleton to the biology department (and apparently it’s somebody she knew).
- She’s always present when you’re cooking up mischief.
- You’ve seen her put crosses in the middle of her O’s.
- On the first day of class, you felt a malevolent presence enter the classroom.
- You find weapons in her desk.
- Because she has promised that you’re going to be dead if you annoy her.
CHAPTER ONE – TOO DEPRESSING
“Zelda! The commander wants you!”
The pale girl under the black umbrella sighed, opened her eyes, and lifted her headphones off her ears as she started towards Ms. Hardin, the Base secretary. She was a slender girl, about five feet six inches in height, with features that hinted at mixed ancestry. Even though the sun was shining mightily, she wore layered black clothing.
“What is it?” She asked quietly, joining the secretary’s stride.
“I’m surprised you haven’t heard. Commander Reinhardt is giving your team this month’s assignments.”
Zelda sighed and shook her head. I haven’t really been awake lately, she sighed to herself. It’s too depressing.
They arrived at the office building, where it was cold and mercifully dim inside. Zelda folded her umbrella and blinked a few times to let her vision adjust.
Ms. Hardin smiled sympathetically. “Your new medicine is working okay?”
The girl shrugged. “Not really. But that’s fine.” She planned to go back on her old medication once she got back to Astra. She didn’t care about the fact that their enemies made the medicines, as long as she was allowed under the daylight again.
“I’m sorry to hear that. It’s only a matter of time ’til we figure out the enemy’s formula and get started on making more effective medicine. Meanwhile,” the secretary stopped in front of a set of double glass doors and led the girl inside “here she is, Commander.”
Inside the office, the NightHunt team sat with Reinhardt in an easy, relaxed mood. Yuri Khrushchev, their captain, was on the couch with Kristian Romanov, second-in-command, and Lucien Kristov, who was their resident intelligence expert. Kirsten Rosen, their medic and standby, sat on a chair in the corner. Gabriel Riera, their weaponry expert, was perched on an armchair.
Zelda tried to walk in as unobtrusively as possible and squished on the armchair next to Gabriel. “Hey, you,” he said, patting her on the head and putting an arm around her shoulder.
“Heya,” she mumbled, not looking up.
Reinhardt called for attention, and they went back to business. “Since you are now complete, I’ll be giving you your respective assignments. We’ve had nothing that calls for teamwork, so you’ll do your tasks individually. If you want, you can head out once I tell you your tasks. You have my permission to begin immediately.”
He smiled at the group, a tiny dimple winking on his chin. Zelda saw Kirsten blush. She knew Reinhardt was one of her friend’s many crushes.
“Yuri, I need some inside info. I need you to pose as a medical intern at a nearby hospital in Luna City to investigate the sudden rise in infant mortality rates. Details and information are on file, code-named F368.”
Yuri, Zelda’s twin brother, nodded and flashed his perfect pearly whites on the group. “Easy enough. See you guys later.” He waved at them confidently, dropping a teasing kiss on his sister’s forehead before exiting the room.
She growled in annoyance, despite Gabriel’s knowing grin. “He’s annoying,” she told him glumly.
“He’s your brother. It’s instinctive that he’d want to annoy you,” he said consolingly. In truth, nobody could really understand the passionate half-love, half-hate relationship between the twins. They tended to rival each other in everything. Yuri’s side was more lighthearted, but the same could not be said for Zelda.
“Kristian, you’ll stay here and act as home base to your group members. You’ll relay orders, research information, collate the data, check up on them regularly and report back to me. ” Kristian nodded, said goodbye to his teammates, and left the room.
Zelda looked up in curiousity. “That was supposed to be my job this month,” she reminded Reinhardt more testily than she intended to.
“You’ll have something else,” he promised. “Wait your turn.”
She grumbled. “Someone should run this place like a real base.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Are you complaining because of my informality?”
She ignored him, not realizing that she was the one being unprofessional and childish. I’ll be last as usual, Zelda thought darkly.
“Gabriel and Kirsten, you have joint cases. It involves security detail for a member of the Parliament as he travels abroad. Report to Foreign Affairs for a briefing.”
“Right,” answered Gabriel, easing himself off the chair and squeezing Zelda’s hand before going out.
“Right,” echoed Kirsten, following him.
The commander then turned to Lucian. “Kristov, you…try to tame Nightmare.”
Lucian Kristov’s sea-blue eyes widened in surprised. “What the fuck?” He stood up stared disconsolately at Reinhardt, silently willing him to start laughing and say that it was all a joke. “Th-that’s my job?” he stammered, his face paling in confusion and mounting fear. “But…I…I…”
“Are you questioning my orders?” Reinhardt asked sternly.
“No, man. But…I mean, that horse IS a nightmare.”
“Hence the name,” Reinhardt quoted dryly. It was also common knowledge that Lucian had severe zoophobia, which had to be corrected ASAP.
“Ahhh, fuck me,” moaned Lucian, standing up in a daze. “All right. Nightmare horse taming commenced. Bye, Zeldele.” He went out, muttering unpleasantly under his breath.
“Hmm. Five down. Which leaves — ”
“Me,” Zelda stated flatly, following the commander’s movements with dark-ringed eyes, which were a product of her chronic insomnia. At the moment, Reinhardt seemed a trifle nervous and plenty unsure. Zelda wondered why. He was usually very competent and confident.
“I have a special project for you, angel,” he finally spoke up, fiddling with his computer’s wireless keyboard. “It’s about, uh…” he cleared his throat and looked to Ms. Hardin’s direction as if to ask for help. The secretary immediately raised her eyebrows and looked away pointedly, as if saying “why are you looking at me?”
The seconds beeped by. Zelda stared at Reinhardt, he stared back as if contemplating on how to break the news.
That single word had been uttered in a precise, controlled, calm manner. But the dam that was holding back her impatience was rapidly breaking down.
“Well,” Reinhardt laughed nervously, “Your citizen ID — the Karyna one — it says you’re twenty-one, right?”
“Yes.” What with that, she wondered.
“And twenty-one is the legal working age for teachers.”
Anyone with half a brain knows that, Zelda snarked inwardly.
Reinhardt took her silence for agreement and he went on, encouraged. “I’ve booked you as a substitute teacher for Riverville’s all-boys high school. Don’t worry, there are only nine weeks of school left, so you’ll be able to pull out at the end of March.”
She gaped at him. “What?!”
“Oh, come on. It’s not like I’ve sent you to a suicide mission. You only have to keep an eye on the school while investigating the drug trafficking scene nearby. For some reason, the school is involved and we have to put a stop to this.”
Zelda stayed moodily silent.
The commander winced. “It’s easy for you.”
“The last time you said that, I almost died,” she reminded him dourly.
“Tell me you’ll do it,” Reinhardt wheedled entreatingly, looking at her winningly. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
“Ahh, now we’re talking.” She smirked, and then glanced sideways at him, suspicion in her dark eyes. “I choose?” She asked softly, a small smile threatening to quirk up on the edges of her pale lips.
Oh, man. This was going to be excruciating. “You choose.”
“Then it’s decided,” she announced triumphantly. “Fifty thousand.”
It was hard. “Thirty,” he argued, protesting.
“Forty. My last resort.” He held out his hand and tilted his head, smiling at her appealingly. “Is it a deal?” Outside the Base, they were great friends. Reinhardt never treated her like a lower officer, and Zelda never treated him with the annoyingly respectful distance he had come to expect from other people.
“Well, then. You’ve got yourself a deal,” he said, still holding out his hand.
“And you’ve got yourselves a spy,” Zelda said, ignoring his outstretched hand and giving him a very faint kiss on his cheek before flouncing out.
Oh man. She knew how to torture him, all right.