You Don't Know Me - Chapter 1
PG-13 for violence, language, and content. A girl leads a double-life, and her secret holds more consequences than ever imagined.
The bell rang. I wished I could close my ears just like I could close my eyes. I didn't want to hear that bell. I hadn't heard it all summer. I wasn't meant to hear it.
It was the first bell of the school year at Brinkley High School, and i was now a junior. Woop-de-doo. Juniors, by my book, are full of themselves because they're just now upperclassmen, but now I can kind of understand what they're thinking. I however have a great sympathy for them because of all the college bullshit.
What college am I going to, you might wonder? Well, I'm not going to college. Mia's dreaming about getting into one of the Ivy League's on the East Coast. I mean, she's a smartass enough to get in there, don't get me wrong. Jayla wants to get into Santa Barbara just down the coast, Aaron's road is already paved for him, probably a football scholarship. Lila's destined to get into Los Angele's Valley College, even though she has some bigger dreams in mind. But I... don't care. Of course, I don't let my friends know this. But, I'm really not interested. Fate doesn't get me into college. Fate has me something way different.
Fate has me getting my high school diploma and my GED and all that required stuff, but I'm destined to make more money than Mia will ever make out of Harvard. Why? Because I have a talent. A gift. Something that no one in the world can ever accomplish. I have the gift a killer would die for. I can hit anything. You put a loaded gun in my hand and I am the most dangerous human being on the planet. I don't have to even aim. I just have to think of my target and pull the trigger. You don't believe me? Well, it'll be too late for you.
I figured it out on my ninth birthday, the same birthday as my brother, Beck, who was turning fourteen. My father gave both of us bb guns and a pack of bb's. That was enough to determine the rest of my life. My destiny. Keat found out I could bb pellets when he threw them up in the air a football field away. It wasn't long before he took me to a shooting range.
When I was fourteen, four years later, my father was mysteriously killed and my brother went missing within the first month I was a freshman at Brinkley. Within a month, my entire family had suddenly disappeared from my life, perhaps forever.
When I was fifteen, i got my own place with a little persuading with my foster parents, Mr. and Mrs. Snapple (no joke. awesome last name). After six months of wrist-cutting, nights beyond curfew, depression, four arrests, and the discovery of guns and drugs in my possession, the Snapples had had enough. Mrs. Snapple found the number to call to send me back to Social Services for a new foster home, but I begged her not to go. So, we dealt out a compromise. They would help me get my own place if I paid the rent and never saw them again.
Now I'm seventeen, but I feel much older. I feel like I've lived an entire lifetime. ----
Back the school scene. Did I want to go to school? Hell no. Did I care about school? Hell no. I really didn't care about any teacher, any student, even my friends. It was all just part of the act I put on so I could lead my double life. Hmm. A double life. Sounds pretty neat, don't you think? Call me Hannah Montana.
By day I was a normal teenager who worried about tests and parents, boyfriends and drama. By night I was a killer, worried about my identity being found out, and getting shot at. So really, I'm not your average teenager at all. At all.
So I wore some cute new clothes like everybody else. I primped myself up like everybody else for the first day of school. I made my appearances at various back to school sales at the mall. My cover hasn't been blown for two years. It will never be blown.
I heard a familiar, prissy high-pitched, annoying voice. "Oh my GOD, Shay! We haven't seen each other in like.. what.. two weeks? It's been forever!" Gritting my teeth, I turned around to face Mia Macy, you know, the smartass with all the money to get her into an Ivy League I was telling you about. She was running up to me, her arms full of brand new books and an overflowing designer purse. She gave me a hug, where I had to pinch my nose to keep myself from suffocating on the gallon of shit perfume she had taken a bath in. Newsflash, Mia, I thought, Less is more.
When she finally released me, standing there behind her were my other friends Jayla, Lila, and Aaron. The two girls waited patiently for my hug, then finally Aaron impatiently swept me into his arms and we kissed right in front of the whole school, everybody watching. We were the "it" couple of the school, dubbed as the prettiest girl and the hottest guy. Aaron Cartwright was the star wide receiver on the football team, basking in the glow of hotness and fame since he scored the winning touchdown while he was a freshman on the varsity team a couple years back. He had emerald green eyes and awesome brown skater hair. Every girl at Brinkley was in love with him, because he was, I'm pained to admit, an actually lovable, kind, all-around nice guy. Completely naive to my nightly life, he was head over heels in love with me, with the adoration and clinginess of a puppy. Which, of course, I was okay with.
It was the first bell of the school year at Brinkley High School, and i was now a junior. Woop-de-doo. Juniors, by my book, are full of themselves because they're just now upperclassmen, but now I can kind of understand what they're thinking. I however have a great sympathy for them because of all the college bullshit.
What college am I going to, you might wonder? Well, I'm not going to college. Mia's dreaming about getting into one of the Ivy League's on the East Coast. I mean, she's a smartass enough to get in there, don't get me wrong. Jayla wants to get into Santa Barbara just down the coast, Aaron's road is already paved for him, probably a football scholarship. Lila's destined to get into Los Angele's Valley College, even though she has some bigger dreams in mind. But I... don't care. Of course, I don't let my friends know this. But, I'm really not interested. Fate doesn't get me into college. Fate has me something way different.
Fate has me getting my high school diploma and my GED and all that required stuff, but I'm destined to make more money than Mia will ever make out of Harvard. Why? Because I have a talent. A gift. Something that no one in the world can ever accomplish. I have the gift a killer would die for. I can hit anything. You put a loaded gun in my hand and I am the most dangerous human being on the planet. I don't have to even aim. I just have to think of my target and pull the trigger. You don't believe me? Well, it'll be too late for you.
I figured it out on my ninth birthday, the same birthday as my brother, Beck, who was turning fourteen. My father gave both of us bb guns and a pack of bb's. That was enough to determine the rest of my life. My destiny. Keat found out I could bb pellets when he threw them up in the air a football field away. It wasn't long before he took me to a shooting range.
When I was fourteen, four years later, my father was mysteriously killed and my brother went missing within the first month I was a freshman at Brinkley. Within a month, my entire family had suddenly disappeared from my life, perhaps forever.
When I was fifteen, i got my own place with a little persuading with my foster parents, Mr. and Mrs. Snapple (no joke. awesome last name). After six months of wrist-cutting, nights beyond curfew, depression, four arrests, and the discovery of guns and drugs in my possession, the Snapples had had enough. Mrs. Snapple found the number to call to send me back to Social Services for a new foster home, but I begged her not to go. So, we dealt out a compromise. They would help me get my own place if I paid the rent and never saw them again.
Now I'm seventeen, but I feel much older. I feel like I've lived an entire lifetime. ----
Back the school scene. Did I want to go to school? Hell no. Did I care about school? Hell no. I really didn't care about any teacher, any student, even my friends. It was all just part of the act I put on so I could lead my double life. Hmm. A double life. Sounds pretty neat, don't you think? Call me Hannah Montana.
By day I was a normal teenager who worried about tests and parents, boyfriends and drama. By night I was a killer, worried about my identity being found out, and getting shot at. So really, I'm not your average teenager at all. At all.
So I wore some cute new clothes like everybody else. I primped myself up like everybody else for the first day of school. I made my appearances at various back to school sales at the mall. My cover hasn't been blown for two years. It will never be blown.
I heard a familiar, prissy high-pitched, annoying voice. "Oh my GOD, Shay! We haven't seen each other in like.. what.. two weeks? It's been forever!" Gritting my teeth, I turned around to face Mia Macy, you know, the smartass with all the money to get her into an Ivy League I was telling you about. She was running up to me, her arms full of brand new books and an overflowing designer purse. She gave me a hug, where I had to pinch my nose to keep myself from suffocating on the gallon of shit perfume she had taken a bath in. Newsflash, Mia, I thought, Less is more.
When she finally released me, standing there behind her were my other friends Jayla, Lila, and Aaron. The two girls waited patiently for my hug, then finally Aaron impatiently swept me into his arms and we kissed right in front of the whole school, everybody watching. We were the "it" couple of the school, dubbed as the prettiest girl and the hottest guy. Aaron Cartwright was the star wide receiver on the football team, basking in the glow of hotness and fame since he scored the winning touchdown while he was a freshman on the varsity team a couple years back. He had emerald green eyes and awesome brown skater hair. Every girl at Brinkley was in love with him, because he was, I'm pained to admit, an actually lovable, kind, all-around nice guy. Completely naive to my nightly life, he was head over heels in love with me, with the adoration and clinginess of a puppy. Which, of course, I was okay with.
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