6Out of the blue I was yanked from my dreary little world of safety and comfort without knowing what was going to happen next or whether my life would ever be the same again. From then on, whatever had occurred before everything changed was just a blur, a memory; a black and white photograph.
Allow me to back track a little. My name is Veronica Skyler, or at least that's what I shall remain to anyone who asks at the moment. I barely remember my real name, my birth name, now. But that doesn't matter, because if anyone found out what my real name was I would not be safe, nor would anyone in my family or anyone close to me. I wish to tell you my story so you know the truth.
Just to forewarn you, none of the names in this story are the person's real name, for their own safety and mine. I won't tell you my real name or any of the names I have actually used, either. My name in this story will be Kate, up until the point where I am forever changed to Veronica. The story begins not more than two years ago.
"Kate, have you finished that geometry homework yet?" asked my friend Selma.
"Umm, no not yet," I replied. "Do you have any idea how to do it?"
"Not really, but I think I should be able to figure it out if I looked at it. Of course we'll get no help from Mr. Tolburn. He couldn't teach a genius math. Come on, let's go sit down by the radiator so we can stay warm, and we'll see if we can work something out."
"I totally envy you, Sel. You have the best attitude of anyone I know, you don't give up on anything, not even math. Grr, I wish we didn't have to take math," I said as we headed over to a couple of free seats by the radiator in the drafty room where our study hall was located.
"I have to agree, it's completely pointless, but that doesn't mean we don't have to pass it. Laws are cruel, and math is required by state laws. So,until we manage to get a law passed that bans geometry, we're gonna have to pass the class to get an average GPA."
We sat a few minutes in silence, looking over our tedious assignment, until I finally concluded there was no way I could figure it out. I threw up my hands in frustration. "I give up, Sel. I'm no good at this. I think I'll just have to wait until I get home to do this and try and do it in the peace and quiet of my own room. Maybe I could give you a call, too, and you could help me if you figure it out."
Selma yawned. "Everyone's good at their own things. Look at you, you're like the best writer in the school. You're the only sophomore who actually gets stories published in the paper. You even won the journalism award for the fall semester. It must run in the family, since your aunt wrote in the paper when she was in high school, and now your brother even writes in the middles school paper."
Selma's yawn was contagious; it was getting late in the day, so I yawned, too, before responding. "I suppose," I mumbled through my next series of yawns. "But I still wish I could get math, it would make life a lot easier."
"Doesn't everyone? It's not your fault if you don't get it, it's the teacher's. Anyway, I promise I will call you later, if and when I figure it out. I'm not the perfect math student, either, Kate. I'm only getting a B in that class."
"Better, a B than a D." I sighed. "Bell's gonna ring. I'll catch ya later."
After school, I drove my car home, with my recently acquired license. When I walked in the door, my brother, who had taken the bus home, was sitting in a chair that was moved as close to the television as possible. Of course, it was just about the time for my favorite show to come on, and seeing as it was such a long day, all I really wanted to do was flop down on the couch with a diet soda, and watch it. It would probably be the one day that week when I could actually do just that. Normally, I would be somewhere doing something.
"Rocky, give me the remote. I am not in the mood to argue with you and my favorite show is coming on. You really shouldn't sit so close to the T.V., either."
Rocky payed absolutely no attention to this threat as if I wasn't even there. Which wasn't surprising, but it still took about five more tries to even catch his attention.
"No. Go away stupid chubba-lubba."
I attempted to wrestle the remote from him with no luck. He punched me hard in the stomach and I doubled over. "Rocky, I am warning you, you will not get any more rides anywhere with me in my car if you don't start behaving. You don't even like that show, why do you want to watch it?"
"Just to annoy you, dumb whore."
I could see this wasn't going to get anywhere. I hated to let him win, as I so often did, but I would be the one who would get in trouble if I stayed any longer, so I settled for retreating to the confines my room and writing in my journal. Whenever I wrote, I felt better. I confided everything in my journal, and I would be upset if someone ever read it. My whole soul was contained within that sacred book, not to mention any ideas I ever got for newspaper stories. I stroked the intricate flower design that surrounded the journal. I unclasped my tiny little key from the necklace that I never took off, not even to sleep or shower. The lock opened with ease after I twisted the miniscule silver key into the matching lock. I poured out my deepest and innermost thoughts and wouldn't stop until there was no more to share. My life certainly seemed to suck at the moment. "I have been sixteen for over five months now and I still don't have a boyfriend," I wrote. "My friends teased me about being sixteen and never been kissed. I never even slow danced with a boy yet. That's pathetic. I think I'm a guy repellent. Well, there is that one boy, Sean, who kinda likes me, but I don't think he's ready to commit to a relationship yet. As a matter of fact, I think he just wants to be friends. Sigh." I thought for a moment as I sucked on my pen tip. My father seemed to be really overbearing lately, too, and he hadn't let me had much freedom. He would yell at me for the littlest things, and it really hurt. The phrase "Don't cry over spilt milk," didn't seem to apply to him. I decided to write about that, too. When I had written all I could possibly write for the day, I flopped back on my bed, stretched. I lay there for a while, contemplating. Contemplating why I had gotten stuck with this life. Why life just had to be so darn hard.
That was what a normal day had been like for me back then. Looking back on that particular day, it seems so ironic that I could have ever thought life was hard. Really and truly, I had such a simple life back then, and such simple, silly worries, that it was almost funny. After the day my life changed forever, those worries would be long gone and forgotten. Mere petty details in a very large and cruel world.
I'll never forget that fateful day. I was sitting at home in my living room when the phone rang a ring that will be stuck in my memories and not soon forgotten. My brother, as usual, was too lazy to answer the phone, and seeing as I was just sitting there, trying to figure out why he watched the moronic shows he did, I had no need to stay seated. I answered the phone and heard the strangest reply on the other line. At least, it seemed strange at the time.
"Is this line secure?" answered a woman's voice, after I had said hello.
"Uh, yeah, I believe so," I responded.
"Are you alone and out of hearing range of other persons?"
"Um, no, but I can fix it so I am." I walked to my room and quietly shut the door. "Okay," I said, once I was sure there was no one close enough to my room to hear.
"We can't tell you who we are but we can tell you that we need your skills. You and your brother Rocky write for the school newspapers, correct?"
"C-c-correct," I stuttered, thoroughly confused, and I little scared.
"We've been reading your articles and we know all about you, every single bit of information. Forgive us for intruding, but it was absolutely necessary, we assure you."
I was not assured, but I had no choice but to reply. "Um, okay, I guess. Do you have a point you're going to get to any time soon?"
"Yes. We can't go into this business in detail over the phone, it's too risky. But the gist of it is that you, right now, have the opportunity to change your life. If you're interested, you may meet us at the old warehouse on the outskirts of your town at precisely seven o'clock p.m. tomorrow evening. You may bring your brother if you wish, we would not be at a loss with his skills either."
Click.
I stared at the phone in my hand for a long time after that, as if it were a dangerous predator about to strike. "That was the weirdest phone call I have ever accepted," I said aloud, to no one. I finally took the iniative to hang up the reciever and then I sauntered over to my bed and plopped down to ponder.
Now, I was not one to back out of a potential adventure, and certainly not one that had the possibililty of changing my life, but one has to have their limits. I mean, how safe could something be, if the people who initiated it didn't give their names and wanted me to meet them in an old abandoned warehouse, and didn't want me to talk about it to anyone else. There were two things it could mean other than an actual important mission or adventure. One, it was a fraud and someone was trying to play a joke on me, or two, they wanted to kill me. The threat of almost certain death and positive danger did seem appealing to me, but. . . . . . .
I decided I would sleep on it and by the next morning I was more or less sure I would go, because I just couldn't chicken out like that, it wouldn't be me. After all, I had wished for so long that I had a different life, right? How could I ever forgive myself if I never even gave myself the chance to have another life? ***********************************************************
This is the end of chapter one. I am planning to write lots more, but I definitely need reviews. So, hint hint, if you liked this story please let me know.