The Innocents

"On your left, you'll find the bowling alley. We won't be able to go inside, of course." Our tour guide, Leslie McCann, points to a door on our right as we walk through the elaborately decorated halls.

"This is so amazing," whispers my mom. We're on a tour of the White House—my mom, my twin sister, Jade, and me, Ruby. We're fraternal twins—we don't even look related, let alone twins. I have wavy, dark brown hair down just past my shoulder and sky-blue eyes. My sister's eyes, true to her name, are jade-green, and she has Rapunzel-like hair pulled back in a braid halfway down her back. We aren't adopted, by the way. Our parents just look nothing alike.

"Where's the bathroom?" Jade asks mischievously. She winks at me. I can tell she just wants an excuse to explore. We both got our dad's curiosity, but while I'm perfectly content to read about fascinating facts and events, Jade has to see to believe.

"Down the hall, third door on the right," Ms. McCann instructs, interrupting my thoughts.

"I'll go with you," I offer, smiling. We race down the hall, skidding to a stop when we see someone.

Oh. My. Gosh. It's the president ! Of the United States! "Well, hello there," he says in a grandfatherly voice. I'd be insulted by the way he talks to us like we're three, but he's the president!

"You're the president!" I blurt. Jade taps on the shoulder to tell me to calm down.

He smiles kindly and chuckles. "Well, yes I am. And who might you—" There's a quick whoosh, and he stops mid-sentence. For a moment he stands still; then he falls to the ground.

Before I have a chance to panic, Ms. McCann runs over. "President Lewis, sir! What happened?" He doesn't respond. I notice something sharp with green on the end sticking out of his shoulder. "He's dead," she realizes, shocked, as are Jade and I. The president? Dead? How? There was no one else there...

I'm prepared for Ms. McCann to be stunned, depressed, scared, or even angry—no one I've known has ever died so suddenly, so I'm not sure what to expect. But I'm completely stunned by this reaction.

Her eyes, stone-cold, bore into mine. "You killed him," she says threateningly.

I am so dumbstruck by this accusation that it takes me a moment to respond. "You—you mean us? What? How could we possibly—ask our mom!" I sputter, pointing to where she was.

She glances in that direction. "Who, your partner in crime?" I turn around and she see isn't there.

"Ms. McCann..." I start to beg, when Jade grabs my hand and half-drags me through hallways, down flights of stairs, and out a door onto the streets. From there, we are animals, running through who-knows-how-many streets until we are completely, thoroughly lost in Washington D. C.

"Why did you do that?" I demand, my heart racing. "Now we look twice as guilty as we would have before, and we're lost!"

Jade shakes her head. "Ruby, think about it. We've been accused of murdering the president. And we're ten years old—maybe we could pass for twelve, but there's no way we could look old enough to be murderers to a normal person. Something's up."

"Well, duh," I respond. "How could someone even get close enough to shoot the president, anyway? And what a crazy wrong-place-wrong-time case!" That must be it, right? Right?

"I don't think so," Jade continues darkly. "I think someone blamed us on purpose. How else could people accuse us, of all people? And Mom disappearing—honestly, Ruby, you can be so naïve—hey!"

I scream out loud as someone's cold hands press against my shoulder. "Now, listen here, girls," he whispers threateningly. "Here's what's going to happen: Ruby is going to come with me for a little while, and Jade here is going to forget about this little meeting. Got it?" We nod, terrified. "Good."

That's the last thing I remember before waking up on something hard, presumably the ground. I sit up and notice that my head feels like a lead weight and hurts a lot. Wherever I am, I can barely see.

The man who kidnapped me opens a door and strolls in, shedding a bit of light. "It was you who killed the president, wasn't it." I state the obvious—what else is there to say? "You made sure someone else was there when you did it, and when it turned out to be us, you worked your magic and made them blame us."

"Observant, aren't you," he notes. "I also removed any evidence of your parents' existence—including themselves—and yours, to make it more believable." That part I didn't know. It's very disturbing to know someone can do that—wipe away any trace of you.

"How did you convince them we did it?" I inquire, trying but failing to sound mildly curious.

"A magician never reveals his secrets." He winks at me morbidly.

Just then, the door busts open. "Jade!" I exclaim, too thrilled to wonder how she found me.

"I'm a black belt," she warns. "I could kill you with my bare hands—if I wanted to, which I don't, because I, unlike you, am not a cold-blooded killer."

It's true—Jade has been taking kung fu since we were four, and now it really comes in handy. At that point, I remember that I'm not tied up or anything, so I stand up, ignore my throbbing headache, and tell him, "I wouldn't mess with her if I were you."

He laughs. "How cute, a little black belt!" He pulls a green vial of whatever killed President Lewis. "Well, I've got something better." Horrified, I watch my sister fight against a man twice her size holding a bottle of poison. She's pretty talented, but that man can dodge well enough, and whenever Jade does manage to get a hit, he seems to come up unharmed. Finally, after the longest five minutes of my life, Jade manages to knock him unconscious, but at that point I realize that something is happening. I lean against the wall, incredibly dizzy.

"Ruby, are you all right?" I shake my head, too weak to speak. "What happened?" she asks.

"He...got...me," I croak. My throat is so dry that I can barely talk. I almost ask for water but I know it won't help.

"You—you mean he poisoned you?" I nod. "So—so you're...dying?" she barely whispers, tears rolling down her cheeks. "No, no, no! No! I—I can't lose you! You can't die, you can't!"

I want to say something, but I can't. I look at my sister, the best friend I ever had. It's worse for her than for me, I realize. Ten years old is too young to die, sure, but it's also too young to watch your twin sister die in your arms.

Jade chokes back a sob. "I guess I have to let go, then. What choice do I have? I guess only the good die young!" She only ever uses clichés when she's hysterical. How ironic—I'm normally the passionate one, while she is often disturbingly unemotional.

"I love you," I rasp, intent on those being my last words. I can't breathe anymore. I close my eyes.

And then I'm gone.

Hello! I hope you liked this story! It's really bad, but then again, it is an English paper from when I was in sixth grade!

This is a shortened version of a longer, much more in-depth story involving three other main characters and hypnotism. Unfortunately, that story got deleted when my computer was repaired! I am lucky that this file was saved. Vote or comment if you like it!

~~Sasha