I'm a teenage assassin

Before you freak out and put this story down let me explain. Back in middle school a government agent approached me. What she said next turned my whole life upside down.

"I've been looking for you for a long time Sam, we need to talk."

But before I continue, I'll start at the beginning.

The start of an amazing life, started like any other crappy Wednesday. I slipped on a pair of jeans, pulled a shirt over my head, and stepped into the bathroom to finish getting ready. I stared at my bright blue eyes, pale skin, and jet black hair. I brushed my teeth and styled my hair the way I always do. Swept to the left in front of my eyes, but before it hit my eyes I sweep it out to create I line right above my eyebrows. Which are also jet black.

I ran out to the kitchen feeling the cool hardwood beneath my bare feet. I grabbed a handful of mini-pancakes, stacked them on a paper towel, put them in the microwave, started the microwave, and ran back to my bedroom for socks. I grabbed the first pair without holes in them and ran back into the kitchen just in time get my pancakes out of the microwave. As I attacked the pancakes I pulled on my socks. I looked for my shoes for little while but stopped when I saw them laying by the stairs. I pulled on my, already tied, Nikes and ate the last pancake. I grabbed a Coke sitting in the fridge, wrote a note telling telling 'mom' that I needed to go to the library before school, grabbed my backpack off the hook, patted my pockets for my wallet, and ran outside to hop on my bike.

I rode right past the library and continued until I came to the hunting and fishing store.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Sam our favorite loner," chuckled Steve the store's owner.

"Hey Steve," I waved to him as I walked right to the counter in the back of the store.

"What will be today man?" asked Rob one of the employees.

"That one," I nodded to the sniper rifle on the wall in front of me.

It wasn't a real gun, I mean seriously I'm 13. No, it was an air soft gun, but it was beautiful all the same. It had a hairline trigger, an attached scope, laser sight, and you could buy a silencer for it.

"Dude are you sure your mom is okay with you buying this?" Rob asked as he pulled a box from the self behind him.

"I told you a million times, she's not my mom," I sighed, "and yeah she's fine with it."

I should probably explain some things here. 'Mom' is not my mom because I'm adopted. I refuse to acknowledge that she is in charge of me and totally ignore her. And she is NOT okay with the whole air soft gun thing but what she doesn't know won't kill her. Nope, I'm not that lucky.

Rob rung up the gun and looked at me, "your total is $95.94."

I pulled my wallet out of my pocket and paid in cash, cleaning out my allowance for the last two months.

I had about $20.00 left so I bought the silencer and strap for it too. I thanked everybody and ran back out of the shop. I put the box in between my back and my backpack as I rode home to drop off my new 'toy.'

I didn't have to worry about my 'mom' seeing me because I listened for the 80's station before creeping in the house. The first thing my 'mom' does when she gets up is turn on the radio. I ran back to my room and shoved the gun under my bed. I ran back out of the house and pedaled to school. I made it to homeroom just before the bell rang, but I still got the evil eye from Mr.Buttman.

That's not his real name but I never bothered to call him anything else. I didn't talk to him, or anybody else for that matter. I sat in the back of the room in all my classes and don't have any friends. None, zip, nada, zero. I spent my time reading or drawing, not paying attention. Occasionally I would study sheet music for band but not often.