Serial Killer(On hold)

Chapter 1

                  
   I'm just halfway through the list. I suppose you wanna know what the list is, but that's a conversation for later. My name is Sarah Parker and I'm 16 years old. My job started when I was 11 years old and I've been top of the class since then. If you're wondering, my job is the list itself. I am a professional assassin. Weird, right?
The list is the boys I have to kill and they're all around my age.
  I'm just moving to New York to go to Mayweather Prep to kill someone called Kai Jones.
   I hope I just stay for a month or two like normal missions and not a year or more like special missions.
    You're probably thinking, "Sarah, what horrible backstory do you have that got you into this killing business? Please tell us." The only thing you need to now right know is that my boss, no name for now 'cause I don't trust you, saved me from when my abusive foster family wanted to get rid of me, permanently.
    I owe him everything I have, even if he is a little mean with me sometimes.
                            ***
    My flight was long as hell, as I was coming from a small island near China.
    I went from the island to Washington DC to my 'house' and then on bus to New York to my new apartment.
     I took out my belongings from my luggage and lay them across the bed. My clothes, my books ('cause I'm a big bookworm), my toiletries, etcétera, till I find what I was looking for: my weapons. I had special permits for the guns, but the tricky part was the bow and arrow and knives. I had to insist I was going to a hunting trip till I got past security.
                            ***

      I'm in the car because I need to get some information on Mr. Jones.
      While half-singing "Blow me (One Last Kiss)" by P!nk I park next to my Boss's office and go up to his assistant's office.
     "Hey Melissa. Any archives for me?" I said while looking through my bag for cash.
      "Yes, honey. Mr. Machette gave them to me two weeks ago before he went on his trip."
     "Thanks." I mumbled. I couldn't remember when Mr. Machette, my boss, had told me he'd be going on a trip.
      I went back to the car and drove home.