The Twelve Year Old Thief

The Twelve Year Old Thief (1)

This chapter is now dedicated to @mealle for being the first commenter and giving me some great advice!  Thank you!

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Chapter 1

And there I was, sitting at the long, wooden dining table across from a tall, sturdy and large man probably three times my size.  Two even larger men stood with their hands folded across their chests on either side of my chair, watching my every move as if any second I would pull out a stick of dynamite.  The strange guy across from me stood and leaned on the table, the signature stance of everyone who has ever interrogated me.  And I have been interrogated a lot in my days.

"I'm going to ask you again," he said, his deep voice ringing through the black room.  Of course, he grabbed the top of the table lamp and shined it in my eyes; the typical move I've seen so many times before.  "Where is the note?"  His question came out quite slowly, either because he thinks I'm too young to comprehend the words or he was frightened of me.  It went either way every time.

"I don't know what you are talking about," I responded simply.  I honestly didn't.  Lots of people printing illegal money have suspected me of stealing some 'note'.  I guessed it was some piece of paper with information written on it that could get them arrested.  They're were groups of them all across Pennyslvania, where I lived, and they tried to get me to squeal that I had it.  Who knew why they believed I was the thief of their stupid little note?  Okay, there may be one reason that I'd concluded. . .

A few months ago, I was sitting in detention at my middle school.  I was there because I failed to bring in my Science homework.  I don't care about Science because I'm not going to become an astronaut when I get older.  So why would I want to learn about space, let alone care about it?  There were three other kids sitting in sporadic seats around the room.  Two of my English classmates were sitting in the back of the room.  They had pulled a prank on our teacher, but were caught right away.  I had been two seats away from an eighth grader who had black hair and green eyes.  I always found him just a little mysterious.  He's here pratically every day, at least that's what I've heard from rumors.  Who knew a 13 year old boy could have so many tricks up his sleeve?

When the teacher had left to talk to the principal about some sort of 'lunch emergency', a crumpled note landed on my desk.  I unfolded it, too nieve to realize it was trouble, and read it.  It was just a bunch of written symbols and odd information I didn't understand.  I stood up, threw it away and sat back down.  Immediately after I had sat the mysterious kid unzipped his red hoodie and took his cell phone out of his black t-shirt's chest pocket.  He began texting furiously.  I thought he was out of his mind at that time.  But when men in black came in the classroom and left with me, I knew I made a mistake.  And that black-haired, green-eyed eighth grader had something to do with it.  And then, I wished I hadn't touched that stupid note.

I came back to reality when the man across the table was now to my right.  I jumped, wondering how he got there so fast.  Because I was off in Anna land again, I thought to myself.  Why did I ever look at that piece of paper?  Was it normal for a twelve year old girl to be pushed into the middle of an illegal epidemic?

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Thank you so much for reading the opening to my newest book?  It isn't very long, I'm sorry.  It's more of a prologue than an actual chapter, making it a bit shorter.  Next chapter will be in 15 votes OR 1 week.  Get clicking!