Innocent

Chapter 1- Innocent

Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.

~Frederich Nietzsche

               I smoothed over my unwrinkled school uniform for the third time, as I waited for the teacher to pass out the tests. I twirled my dark brown hair nervously as I looked around. I was anxious, since Mr. Steven's test had always been hard for me. "Class," Mr. Steven announced, grabbing the attention of everyone in the room,"Here are last week's test, I have them graded, come pick them up." He began to call names, and I knew I was first. "Isabelle Absher." I walked to the front of the class and picked up my test. 100. Yes! I mentally shouted, happy as could be. The bell rang unexpectedly, students shuffled from their seats, collecting their stuff in a hurry. "Goodbye class, make sure you study this week's vocab."

        I started walking, and had someone waiting for me, my friend Storm, who started chattering on and on, about some boy she liked. I had lost count how many boys Storm had liked, and nodded to whatever she was saying as I walked down the hall. "So what do you think?" Storm asked me, breaking me away from dreamland. "Huh?", I replied. "I mean that's great Storm!" I said with fake excitement. She looked at me, and put her hands on her hips,"Really so you think it's great that my Mom is in a coma dying?" Oops. I thought, instantly regretting not paying attention to what Storm was saying."Storm, I am so sorry. I wasn't paying attention. Forgive me." I said feeling bad, about not consoling her. She giggled at me like a crazed school girl on a sugar high. "I was just kidding, silly. You should pay attention to me, more often." I mentally face-palmed, and I couldn't believe I let myself be fooled, again.

        I rolled my eyes, and let it go. "So tell me, Izzy, have you talked to Matthew lately?" Storm asked me, I could see her mentally reaching for her popcorn, waiting for the gossip. "No, not lately why?" I replied. Storm shrugged her shoulders, as if expecting me to know the answer. "Storm don't start!" I said. She smiled smugly, as if she knew something I didn't. "I still think you guys would be a good couple." She said in a sing-song voice. I looked at her as if she had grown three heads. "Storm, I'm only thirteen, I still have my whole life ahead of me." I spoke rationally, trying to push some logical into her head. Storm shrugged, and stopped going into her class. So much for logic.

        I stepped into English, just waiting for the day to be over.

        "Okay class, open your books to where we left off, on Fahrenheit 451."

        I started to read.

        “The books are to remind us what asses and fool we are. They're Caeser's praetorian guard, whispering as the parade roars down the avenue, "Remember, Caeser, thou art mortal." Most of us can't rush around, talking to everyone, know all the cities of the world, we haven't time, money or that many friends. The things you're looking for, Montag, are in the world, but the only way the average chap will ever see ninety-nine per cent of them is in a book. Don't ask for guarantees. And don't look to be saved in any one thing, person, machine, or library. Do your own bit of saving, and if you drown, at least die knowing you were headed for shore.”

        The Announcements blared, "Isabelle Absher to the parking lot, you're checking out." I mentally sighed as I closed the book and headed home. I was puzzled as to why I was going home, because I don't remember my parents mentioning anything. But then again why would they tell me? I shrugged it off, indifferently. I headed for the parking lot, and was confused, when there was an unfamiliar black van parked in the parking lot. A man stepped out of the car in a black mask, he pulled out a gun from the waist band of his jeans. "Put your hands up!" I obey immediately putting my hands up in the air. "Get in the van! Now!" The man in the mask shouts at me, hesistantly I step inside, because the gun is pointed to my head. I step into the dark van, and take a seat. I put my seatbelt on, because I couldn't do anything else.

        I panicked reaching for my cellphone. It's dead, I reminded myself. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry. I tell myself, Everything is going to be all right. I repeat it in my head over and over again, just hoping to calm myself down. I am in the backseat of the van, when the man enters and starts to drive. He looks fully concentrated, as he drives, and I want to ask him something, plead, bargain, do something to try to save myself. But I know, that he doesn't care, and that talking will only make him want to kill me more. I sigh and look out the window, tears threatening to slip down my face. This could be my last time to look out a car window, this could be my last day. The first thought that comes to mind is that I'm too young to die, but I realize many people are too young to die. I still have so much to do. I still need to graduate high school, graduate college, and have a life.

        "Get out!" The man speaks harshly, pulling me out of my seat with brute force. I flinched at his touch as I stumbled out of the car, leaving my yellow scarf behind in the van.  We were in an empty alley, the streets were empty, no cars were sight except for one. A suave black limo. A man stepped out, carrying a steel briefcase. He had warm brown eyes,and coffee colored hair. His was well-dressed, sporting a suit that probably cost him more than my house. He was urbane in all matters. In other words, he did not look like a man who would make deals with a criminal. Sudddenly he looked at me, his expression turned hard. His eyes became black, and he looked at me, as if I was a rodent who had gotten in his mansion. 

        "Who is this?" He said, with a unnecessary harshness. Long gone, was the man who looked innocent. The one before me, now, looked dangerous, lethal even. The man in the black ski mask was silent. He reached for his gun, and shot him. I gasped, shocked and disgusted. I was no longer silent.

"You...sho-t...him..." I stuttered out, panic taking over my system. I had to get out and get help. But I knew that I was an animal trapped and cornered. With no escape, and just waiting for death.

        The man in the ski mask looked at me, I could see his eyes smiling with mad delight.

        "No," He said excitedly, "You shot him."