Hey hey, this is Chey...obviously XD
Well guys I'm trying to figure out if i should keep up writing or not....you see i think i suck but most of my friends think I'm awesome so I decided to actually start a story and see what people that aren't baised think...please comment and help me figure out if i should keep up or not! :D
~Chey~<3
Chapter One
"Fuck," I muttered under my breath as I glared blatantly at my latest target. I was atop a building exactly 170 square meters away from where he was eating at some fancy restaurant with a name I couldn't pronounce. I wiggled restlessly on my stomach, the cold concrete of the apartment building I laid on scratching my hesitative skin through my tight black tank. I hated being an assassin. I rolled my eyes. Ok. I thought, adjusting my custom made government issued sniper rifle. Yea you heard right, I said government, I worked for the government. I smirked as I thought of my profile up at headquarters in downtown.
Agent Lorelei Westbrook
Age: 17
Height: 5' 5"
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Hazel
Weight: 113
Length of Service: 1 year
Family: -Mother: Lola Westbrook - Deceased
-Father: Paul Westbrook - Deceased
- Siblings: Jackson Westbrook
Age: 7
Threat: He has no knowledge of Agent Westbrook's profession.
Assassination Attempts: 54
Assassinations Successful: 54
Assassinations Failed: 0
I frowned at the last of my profile then sighed. Whats done is done. I leaned my shoulder into the rifle, peering through the nice sleek scope at my target. James Scottsburg, drug lord, was still eating his supper. I'd been watching him for the past hour, hoping to get a clean shot on him. Unfortunately he had four women plastered to his side, never leaving him alone. I rolled my eyes again, its not like leaving his side was a fucking crime. Well, I thought, it actually could be a crime for them if they wanted anything from him. Probably money. I rolled my eyes again and snorted, causing my shoulder to hit the rifle gently. I sighed in exasperation and scoped him out again, making the pretty red dot rest on his forehead. I stared waiting, just waiting, for my opening. An opening always came no matter how stubborn gold-diggers were. My body was full of adrenaline, waiting to pull the trigger and get home to Jackson. I groaned, Jackson needed me to be home making supper for him right now, not out here on a cold rooftop waiting to kill some stupid ass drug lord. I was pissed; I sucked at being a parent/sister. I wished mom and dad hadn't went and got killed. My eyes were welling up with tears. Damnit, I thought, I needed to get a hold of my emotions or I would never finish this mission. I sucked it up thinking 'I'll cry when I get home and go to sleep...where no one can see me or hear me'. I settled in for the long wait wishing for at least a pillow to cushion my stomach.
My chance came about 20 minutes later, the women finally left. They left because a man was moving toward them and it looked like I was fixing to see a dealing going on. I smiled wickedly. This was almost over, as soon as that man sat opposite James, I smirked, he was a dead man. Literally. The man grabbed his chair across from James, smoothing down his business suit and smiling brightly shaking James's hand. I rolled my eyes. Some business, I thought frowning. The men had settled by this point and were talking, leaning towards each other to speak more privately, as if they didn't want to be overheard. Smiling I leaned forward and scoped James again, on target. My stomach was churning in anticipation. I shut off the safety on the rifle, letting myself relax. Then I pulled the trigger.
