Brushed

Chapter 4

“Girls, it’s time to wake up. The car ride is over. We came home, but we decided to not enter Adriana’s house. Who knows who is in there and what they’re doing!” someone says loudly, waking me up.

          “That’s okay with me. There are probably people from the Agencies in there checking out my real mom’s things. We’re guessing that my real mom had some personal information in one of her journals. Most likely information about her Agency; information that gave clues to other people. I want to do more research on it; see who saw her last, where she may have went, who entered the house, seeing if there are any records of arrest in the area. Or maybe they kept the information secret, but who knows,” Adriana rambles. Based on her posture and the fact that she is nervously curling and uncurling her fingers, she still isn’t comfortable with the information. She wants another solution.

          It occurs to me: didn’t I just watch Adriana die?

          She does look pale. Extremely, ghostly pale.

          Almost as if me screaming is natural, they all stare at me, mouths closed. But screaming isn’t normal for me. To them, I am… fearless.

          “You… you died, and here you are.” I slump in my seat. “Was that real?”

          “What are you talking about? Nikki, I’ve been alive all this time. You were asleep in the car,” she explains.

          “Asleep? That makes much more sense…it was just a dream…” I sigh. I laugh and cry at the same time; the dream had just been so real. And I never have dreams like that. I never have dreams.

          “Tell me later,” she whispers to me.

          “Let’s go inside, girls. I sure hope no one is in our house. I mean, I should hope not, but people are so foolish,” my mom says quietly.

          “Where’s Father?” I inquire.

          “He went inside to check for intruders. Just to keep us safe. Isn’t that sweet of him?”

          “Sure is, but maybe I should go too. Just to make sure he’s safe. He doesn’t have anyone watching his back. That’s always a must when doing something like this. How did you not know that?”

          Part of my Agency training is showing here. I try to shut my mouth, because I don’t know whether that is normal for all Agencies or just my own.

          Recent studies have shown that there is another possible answer to the separation of Agencies. It’s possible that the brain is signaling the DNA to take on different looks and aspects, causing us to form the Agencies. But why? It’s not like anyone is different from anyone else because of their Agency. To me, there’s something that the government isn’t telling us.

          That’s for sure. And it’s been that way all along. Everything that people believe to be true about the Agencies, there’s something missing. And I’m not sure what—yet.

          There are too many flaws in the explanation to be factual. What happens to people without the DNA? Or without the special brain signals? What about the people without trainers? The government leaves these questions unanswered, probably on purpose.

          We walk up to my door just as my father walks out.

          “There’s no one in there. I checked everywhere. Just for safety, though, let’s stay all together and never separate in the house until we are sure. The thought of having someone else in here scares me, personally. Especially if they approach me when I’m alone. Your thoughts?”