Mischief is My Middle Name

Chapter 1

It was a day after the battle of New York. I was only 13 when my parents were killed. I was at home doing my chores for the day when I heard the door bell ring. I ran to the door and yanked it open thinking it was my parents. It wasn't them, instead there were two men in suits. I dreaded what would happen next. I took a step back feeling uncomfortable.

"Do you know these two people?" The man on the right asked holding up pictures of my parents. I nodded slowly.

"Is there an adult we can talk to?" the one on the left asked.

"Who are you people?" I asked wanting to not answer the question.

"We're the FBI." the man on the right said holding up a badge.

"Oh, I think I'm going to need to sit down to hear what ever you're going to tell me. Come in." I said moving out of the way so they can come in. I lead them to the living room and sat in my chair, while they sat on the couch. "So what was your question again?" I asked even though I could clearly remember it.

"Is there an adult we can talk to?" The one on the left asked again.

"No, I'm home alone." I replied.

"Are these people your parents?" the one on the right asked. I nodded my head. The men both looked at each other. I started to cry knowing what had happened to my mom and dad. "Why are you crying?" he asked. I glared at him.

"I know they're dead! Why else would you be here!" I shouted at them before running to my room and slamming the door shut and jumped on my bed. I heard their footsteps as they ran up the stairs to my room. They knocked on my door.

"We're sorry for your loss, but how old are you? We know you're a minor." one asked.

"I'm 13 you motherf***ing son of a bitch! Now leave me alone so I can grieve!" I shouted before shoving my face into my pillow.

"She has a broad vocabulary." I heard one of them mumble.

"She can't stay here alone." the other whispered.

"Yes I can!" I yelled. I heard one of them laugh. I pushed my face into my pillow again. I heard something break. My head shot up and looked towards the door that had been kicked in. They came over to me and tried to grab my arms and legs to carry me out of the house. I kicked one in the face and he let go. The other went to the aid of his friend. I grabbed onto my bed frame with all of my strength. They grabbed my legs and started to try and pry me off. A few minutes later my hands got tired and lost their grip. The men fell on their backs and I jumped off of the ground and ran down the stairs and out the door. I ran as fast and as long as I could before they caught up with me and one got out of the car they were driving. I couldn't stop in time. I ran right into one man's arms. He shoved me in the car and got in right next to me to make sure I didn't run. I brought my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs and put my head down on them and began to cry again. I felt a hand on my back and tried to shrug it off but it was a failed attempt. "Where are we going?" I mumbled with my head still on my knees.

"We're handing you over to the Child Protective Services or CPS." The one rubbing my back said.

"Don't I get to gather some stuff to take?" I looked up at his face while I asked.

"Well yes, but after we take you there." he replied. I nodded and looked out the window.

We arrived and they took me inside. One held my hand as we walked to the front desk.

"Another one?" the man at the front desk asked. The one holding my hand nodded. "If I may ask." he paused and I nodded slowly. "How old are you, what is your full name, your birthday is?"