Chapter 2: On the Sly

I unplug my earphones from my ears.

I watch the credits of "The Lion King" roll out on my laptop. The movie finally ends and I am left doing nothing.

I let out a sigh and glance at the digital clock on the wall. I squint my eyes a bit because the lights are off and I much as well be blind because I couldn't see a thing.

2:47 am

The fuck? It took that long to finish a movie?

I rub my eyes and quietly head for the bathroom because I badly need to pee. I adjust my big sweatshirt and I try not to make any sudden noises to not wake up my roommates, Sarah Jackson and Mi-Cha Gyeong.

Sarah and Mi-Cha are close friends. They know each other even before they entered this classified organization and are even lucky to be roommates. I am kind of a third-wheel around them especially when they're talking to each other like, two beds away from me. Sarah, as I have heard, is Latin-American while Mi-Cha is obviously Korean. It was kind of odd to see both nationalites mix together but maybe I'm just racist. It's only been a week since we all passed and got the chance to enter so I haven't much spoken a word to both of them.

But that isn't exactly on my list either.

While battling with darkness and trying not to step on anything, I walk to the bathroom. After 5 minutes or so, I feel something metal and round graze my fingertips. I put my whole hand on it to make sure it's the door knob.

The door knob feels really cool against my skin. I twist and jerk it open.

When the lights are on, I am greeted with an unexpected visitor.

There is a spider.

The little black spider crawls up on the wall and on to the glass divider.

Our bathroom is really small so it didn't have anywhere much to go.

The bathroom is framed with white marble tiles all over. It can just fit one person in the shower and when you sit on the bowl, your knees brush against the wall in front of you. There's only one mirror and underneath is a sink and a garbage bin. One white medicine cabinet is hung on top of the toilet bowl and that's pretty much it. No plants. No fancy lights. No colored shower curtains. Just a white super shiny bathroom.

I take my slipper off and smash the spider to pieces.

I yawn rather loudly and decide to finally take a pee.

I flush the toilet and brush my teeth for the 6th time of the day. Brushing my teeth like every other second has been one of my weird fetishes since I was a kid. I just didn't really like the idea of smiling with brocoli on your teeth or breathing out gas fumes.

I grab a towel to dry myself off and look at the mirror when I finish.

My eyes widen at the horrendous sight.

My gray eyes seem a little pale and tired from watching "The Lion King" and my waist-length hair is tangled to the roots. It looks like a fucking bird's nest. My lips are cracking and my cheeks are so pale beause it was too cold inside the room. My black oversized sweatshirt from Yasuki, reached just on top of my knees and my dark leggings are worn out to the nth degree.

I literally looked like a resurrected gangster/zombie.

I breath out and use my fingers to brush and tame my hair and grab an elastic to put it in a quick bun. After twisting and turning, the elastic snaps in half while hitting my hands.

"Ow," I say.

I give up and decide to just let it be since I'm sleeping anyway.

I make my way back successfully and jump on the single sized bed.

I snuggle in the blankets and rest my head on the pillow. I decide to finally sleep because I'm way past the fucking curfew. If I don't sleep, I might get kicked out.

So I shut my eyes, pray to God, and then slowly try to.

But I can't.

I twist and turn on the bed but the more I move the more it gets uncomfortable.

My bed isn't this hard or small. My pillow isn't in this shape. My blanket isn't anything like this. It's only been a week, but I have to admit it.

I miss home.

I heavily sigh and face the high ceiling. My mind keeps on flashing images of our little apartment in the outskirts of Chicago and on my sister, Zainie. When I decided to be an agent, I knew this was part of the package but I can't help feeling hollow and glum because of it.

I live in a happy and peaceful family actually. My mother is a badass city cop and my father's a head Chicago detective. Me and Zainie are tight and we're all really religious and God-fearing. In short, we just live like any other normal family. And with just enough money to get us by, I am able to go to college and finish my studies. On the other hand, Zainie, when I left, is a 4th year highschool student graduating next year thanks to Mum and Dad's hard work.

Mentioning it now, my parents are actually my inspiration for being an agent. My current occupation may not be exactly the same as theirs but it's still about uncovering the truth and also about justice.

I remember those nights when Dad would just stay up at night skimming through folders and taking a sip of his -now- cold coffee ever so often, too sucked in his work to drink.


"Da- Dad," I called sheepishly at him.

I was seven years old back then. I think it was 1:00 or 2:00 in the morning and I just woke up from a really really really bad dream where there was this giant headless bloddy teddy bear chasing me around with a fucking chainsaw.

I hated stuffed toys ever since.

Michael, my father, adjusted his glasses and lifted his eyes when he heard my high-pitched voice.

His irises are the same color as mine. A hue of striking gray. My father is actually a handsome man, to be frank. He was that kind of "handsome" that didn't need to try too hard.

When he saw it was me, he suddenly straightened up and gave me his full attention.

"What's the matter, Jelly?" he asked with his soothing voice. He closed the folder he was currently reading and set it aside. Even with his busy work, he still had time for all of us. My father didn't really like the idea of work before family so he made sure we were all close and taken care of.

"I had a bad dream, Dad," I said to him, my tears wildly spilling out of my eyes.

His face immediately softened and he raised both arms at me.

"Come here, lil' Jelly," he said lovingly.

"Jelly" is my nickname and Zainie came up with it. Since she was just a toddler back then, she couldn't pronounce my name quite right hence, Jelly. Pfft. Stupid girl. Can say food but can't say my 'overly simple name.' Fucking fantastic.

I slowly walked to Dad and jumped on his lap. He brushed his wrinkled hands against my messy hair slowly, comforting the shit out of me. He squeezed me tight and it felt so good. I buried my face farther into his shirt and took a wiff of his cologne. My racing heart slowly calmed down.

He smelled like the beach.

He smelled peaceful.

He smelled safe.

When I was fully calmed down, I wriggled out of his tight embrace and looked at the stack of folders in front of him.

"Poppy, what's this?" I picked one and opened it up.

A picture of a lovely young girl with short raven hair and green eyes stumbled out of it. The picture landed on the floor. My dad quickly bent over and picked it up with his hands.

"This, Jelly, is Thalia Sawyer," he explains. "That folder you're holding is... um... it belonged to her."

"Huh?" I grabbed the picture from his hands. "I don't understand."

I glanced at the folder I opened and noticed that there were files attached to it.

Case: Case 009 "Sawyer Rape-Slay 1999"

Victim: Sawyer, Thalia Grace, Q.

Age: Seven (7) years old

Sex: Female

Nationality: American

Father: Sawyer, Kartman, P.

Mother: Sawyer, Rochelle, Q.

Siblings: N/A

Birthdate: November 29, 1992

Date of death: Novemeber 29, 1999

The page ended there so I was about to flip it over but my father stopped me.

"Hey! Dad! I was reading it!" I exclaimed.

"Angela..."

Before he could even say more, I cut him off, my curiousity running wild.

"What does 'rape-slay' mean, Dad? And why is there a 'date of death'? She can't die, right? She's too young! God won't allow that. I know He wouldn't."

When I was young, I thought only old people could die and that children were immortal little pieces of shit. Well apparently, Thalia Sawyer proved my theory wrong.

"Angela, I think it's time for you to go to bed," he replied softly. His eyes were looking somewhere else, not wanting to meet mine.

My whole body trembled as he mentioned sleep. My stupid seven year old brain reigned over my senses.

The fucking headless bear might be there for shit's sake!

"Bu-but! Th-the bear! He might kill me and chomp me and strangle me and-"

"Hey, hey, hey. Baby, calm down," my father interrupted my rant.

My body still shook a bit but I wasn't peeing my pants or anything so I was considerably fine. I could see Michael's gears turning like he was debating with himself if he should answer me or not. His striking eyes were calculating and weighing off the situation.

Suddenly, Michael propped me up in his lap and pointed at Thalia's folder.

"Okay, Angela. Listen, okay?"

He used my real name so it was probably something important. I nodded at him as a response.

He breathed in once more and spoke, "Angela, you see, Thalia... well... she- she got murdered."

My Dad said the words like tasting bile. Like it was something he just wanted to get rid of.

"What?" I asked in disbelief. At first the words wouldn't register in my mind. It was like a blow in the chest to hear that. I shifted my eyes at the image of Thalia when she was still breathing.

This lovely girl in the picture? Dead?

He nodded slowly and continued, "Before she was killed, some merciless and cruel monsters took advantage of her," he gritted through his teeth. His voice sounded much more harsh. He sounded like steel.

Unyielding.

Harsh.

Furious.

"And until now, Angela, we still haven't found out who did this to her," he paused. "Now, that's Daddy's job and I'm really trying hard to do so."

"Bu-but! Why did God let that happen? Didn't she care for her? He's powerful right! So why didn't He do anything?!" I blurted out.

My father looked surprised and then he faced me, eye-to-eye.

"Angela, that is not nice. God has many reasons for His actions. Maybe He needed Thalia in heaven that's why He took her. God wouldn't abandon anyone, Angela. He loves us all. Do remember that, okay?"

At my Dad's words, I felt a pang of guilt. I was just too outraged by Thalia's death that the words slipped off my tongue.

I lowered my head and apologized, "Okay. I'm sorry, Dad. And I'm sorry God too. I didn't mean it."

He smiled at me and placed a hand on my head.

"I'm sure God will understand, Angela."

After that, he continued telling more stories about how the cases involving 'rape-slay' have gone up these days. He told me the tactics to use when I, myself, find me in that situation. He told me about how many kids Mum saved and rescued and some of the cases he solved involving this. He told me that even young boys could be victims!

My seven year old brain didn't really know what the hell 'took advantage of' means but I still nodded to his every word. I just got the part where they murder and mercilessly kill.

By the time my dad finished explaining, my blood was boiling hot.

"Dad, I'm so angry. Who ever did that to those innocent kids should be punished and be ashamed of themselves. It's not fair. It's not fair at all! They're just kids. What did they ever do to them, Dad? Why did they have to do that? And where are their parents? Didn't they take good care of them? Didn't they warn them? They should have. It's their responsibility. Not yours, not mine, not hers or his. Theirs." I ranted.

"I'm angry, Dad. I'm really angry," I said as I crossed my arms together.

His eyes expanded and his mouth dropped. He blinked a few times before his face softened a bit. A small smile crept its way to his face crinkling the corner of his eyes. He pecked my forehead lightly and looked back at me. I was completely confused at that moment.

"Jelly, you know what?" he spoke.

"What is it, Dad?" I looked at him through my srunched forehead.

"I think you're going to be a great and intelligent woman someday," he remarked.

I smiled a bit and then asked, "Dad, is there anyway I could help, Thalia?"

"Right now, Jelly, you should just pray for her, okay? Pray that we'll solve this as soon as possible and that Thalia be given the justice she deserves. That she may rest in peace with God. That who ever did this to her be human enough to pay for their crimes."

I hugged him tightly and replied, "Okay, Dad, I will."

"I will pray for Thalia."

I've never felt so much determination in my life since that night.


Exactly three days after our conversation, the rapists were caught hiding while smoking pot in the dark parts of Chicago.

Surprise.

They were Thalia's uncles.

Fucking bastards.

Police said that they raped her on her birthday party inside their van where Thalia recieved a severe blow to the head which killed her instantly. They put her inside a body bag and dumped her in the bushes. The police found her two days after her birthday and was immediately scanned for an autopsy. Their fingerprints and other traces were all over her poor body which led to their capture. The two, named, Randy Sawyer and Luis Sawyer, were sentenced to death two weeks later.

Serves you right, bitches.


There is a growl.

"Holy crap," I hiss at myself.

It is 3:48 a.m and I still haven't got any sleep.

I twist in bed and put a pillow on my face. I groan.

I'm. So. Fucking. Hungry.

On our way to the cafeteria to get my juicy burger, Power just had to do an earthquake drill, right? Yasuki and I tried to go back to the canteen but it was no use. They sent us all back to our rooms.

A light bulb goes in my head.

"Aha!" I half shout/ half whisper.

I reach down under my bed and grab my knapsack. I dig my hand down and feel for the device.

Shirt.

Candy wrapper.

Sock.

Book.

Shoes.

"Yes!" I exclaim as quietly as possible.

I finally find the device.

I pull out the walkie talkie from my bag.

Since phones aren't allowed in Power because they think it would give off signals to terrorists or something, Yasuki and I, being the geniuses that we are, brought private walkie talkies.

You don't fucking want to know how we got those in.

I adjust the antenna of the walkie talkie, drop my bag to the floor and go under the sheets.

A: Roger. Hey, Sparkplug! You awake, asshole? Over.

Yasuki doesn't reply for a while so I thought he is already in bed.

But no.

Hell no.

I know that guy. He's shitty nocturnal, for goodness sake.

A few more minutes pass by and I'm starting to get the feeling he's really asleep.

Is Yasuki that serious for Power? Is he finally changing?

But it can't be. Yasuki can't be-

Y: Roger. Ohhhh! You fucking badass! Why the hell are you up?! Oh, Wildflower, and to answer your utterly hard question, NO, I'm not awake. This is my ghost speaking. Over.

Spoken too soon.

I get startled a bit by his deep voice but shrug it off anyway. I roll my eyes at his sarcastic response.

A: Roger. Oh-har-dee-har-har. So you're dead. Fucking terrific. I'm gonna have a party. Over.

Y: Roger. Pfft. What do you want at this hour anyway? Don't tell me you ran out of tampons. Over.

I almost fall of the bed.

A: Roger. EWWWWW! I'm just fucking hungry and I need to eat! Over.

Y: Roger. Can't you just like wing that hunger for the night? Over.

A: Roger. Oh come on. I'm really hungry! And I know you're hungry too, you caveman! If you don't want to then, fine. Don't join me. I won't insist. Over.

A: Roger. Woah, seems to me that somebody's really on their period today. Just sayin' Over.

A: Roger. Am not, you moron! But seriously, I'm going to chomp my roommates down if I don't eat right now. Over.

Y: Roger. Woah. Chill, Wildflower, or should I say Cannibal. What do you want to do then? Over.

I shift positions and put my feet against the wall. My stomach's growling gets louder as we speak.

I really fucking need to eat right now.

A: Roger. I don't know! I just want to eat! Over.

Y: Roger. What exactly do you want to feast on? Over.

A: Roger. I don't know, okay?! Over.

Y: Roger. Definitely on period. Over.

A: Roger. You know what? Screw you. Over.

Y: Roger. Hahaha. Alright, alright. Lemme think. Sushi? Over.

A: Roger. Meh. Over.

I haven't actually tasted sushi before so it definitely appealed to me.

Y: Roger. Aha! Fried kangaroos! How about that? Over.

I almost barf on my spit. Sushi was fine but fried kangaroos? Ew.

A: Roger. Woah, hold your horses Aussie-boy. Don't want to get chased by the police next morning. Plus, that's so disgusting! Over.

Y: Roger. Aish. You're impossible. Over.

I sit up and put my hand to my chest as if he sees me. I speak in the girliest way possible.

A: Roger. Oh and how I love you too! Over.

Y: Roger. Pfft. Fine, let's just go to fucking McDonalds! But promise me that we're definitely going to try the kangaroos someday. Over.

A: Roger. Eh. Yeah, whatever. Wait. Is there a McDonalds in Power? Over.

Y: Roger. There's none. Only Starbucks, Uncle John's and a new store that I don't know. We'll have to leave the compound to get there. Why, Wildflower, changing your mind, huh? Over.

I could swear that he was smirking. He's either trying to taunt me or he's just really chicken to go out.

A: Roger. Nope. We're still gonna eat. Maybe you're the one who's backing out. Are you too chicken, Sparkplug? Cluck-cluck-cluck! Hear that? Chicken! Over.

I could feel his eyes widening and the corner of his mouth curling.

He's definitely not backing out of this not when I was the one who taunted him. Yasuki loves challenges and wouldn't allow a girl to beat him.

Y: Roger. Ohhhh. Feisty. Game on, sister. Meet me at the Conference Room 01. Over.

A: Roger. Okay, Chicken. Over.

Y: Roger. Well let's just see who gets there first. The Chicken or the Egg. Over.

A: Roger. Haha. Game on, Chicken. Over.

Y: Roger. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Call me anything you want. We'll just wing it when we get there, okay? Oh! and one more thing, LOSER. GETS. TO. PAY. Over.

I do a fist pump in the air. My adrenaline is starting to pump in my veins.

A: Roger. This is gonna be so epic! Mission McDonalds in action! Over.

Y: Roger. God, you're so adorable. Race ya there, Wildflower. Bring your money. Over.

Our conversation ends there with my cheeks flaming hot and my palms sweaty. I swear he ended that with a wink.

Yasuki and I have only been here for a week and we're already breaking the fucking rules. And surprisingly enough, I'm not feeling any kind of fear.

I feel brave.

Brave for that fucking greasy calorie monster deliciousness.

I really do believe that we both have a death wish.

Remembering Yasuki's challenge, I quicky stand up, put a pillow under my blanket, swiftly grab a bonnet and a few dollars just in case and leave all my worries behind.

"God, I hope this works," I mumble to myself as I start darting through the door.

A/N: HEY GUYS! Sorry for the late update! School's been crazy and Pope Francis came here to the Philippines which caused the internet to be shut down temporarily. He's such an inspiration! 3 I hope you spill your thoughts about this and put this on alert! :) Thanks for all the support. Next update might be next week so watch out for that! :) BYE! :P I love ya all!