Agent 12

11 Sep

By Haden Ringel
6th Grade

My eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. Where was I? I couldn’t figure anything out. After what seemed to me like hours, a woman came into the room. She was carrying a long needle that was black in color, so I couldn’t see what color the liquid inside was. The woman walked towards me. I knew that there was no use to try and resist her or the ropes that were holding me to the table. Her footsteps were the only sound in the room. For now, my thoughts were quiet and the woman’s footsteps were echoing around my skull. Pound pound pound. With every step that the woman took, I knew that I was one second closer to doom. The woman was beside me. She inserted the long black needle into my arm. I took a deep breath. Only one thought was in my brain. Agent 12 will never be the same. I didn’t know why I thought this particular phrase, but I did. I took a breath of air. “If I could do everything over again, I would still want o be a…

People were chanting my name. I didn’t know where I was. Were the people chanting my name? Was that name, Elizabeth, even my name? I ran into a hallway. I felt like I was being pulled towards something. I was like a puppet. I took step after step forward. I stumbled to my knees. I felt as if something bad, something really bad, was going to happen. I felt blood in my mouth. I continued to walk forward and opened a black door. I was startled when I heard a noise almost like nails on a chalkboard. “Elizabeth. Please, Elizabeth.” I saw someone on the floor. I recognized her. At least I think I did. I saw myself pulling out something and then ordering other people around. What was going on? I spun and spun. I walked through a door and saw a girl. The girl was on a table and seemed to be tied up. “Elizabeth. Please, Elizabeth,” she said. I reached out towards her, but the floor fell out beneath me. I smelled baby powder and freshly laundered clothes. I woke up with a jolt.

I looked around me. Good, I was still on a plane. A plane to Nantucket to be exact. Remembering the dream that I had sent shivers down my body. I heard a loud noise. It almost sounded like it was hailing. I thought that this was just the plane landing, but when I looked out the window the plane wasn’t landing yet. I looked up. I almost shrieked when I saw that in place of the overhead light that is usually on an airplane there was a human eyeball. Naturally, being me, I poked the eyeball. It looked like the eyeball glared at me. Tiny grubby fingers slid a paper through the hole. The eye then returned to the hole. The paper was almost impossible to see. “How peculiar,” I murmured to myself. I held the paper up to the sun. It became invisible. I put the paper into the shadows. It then became visible. I unraveled the roll of paper. It read, “Meet me at Jetties Beach at 4:00.” And that was the end of that.

At Nantucket’s White Elephant Village and Inn, I checked the clock. It read 3:00. My insides were twisted with fear and excitement. Who was this person? Why did they want to see me? These thoughts kept racing through my head. I tried to distract myself by designing clothes. It worked, and soon I was immersed in a world of fashion design.

Tick-tock tick-tock. I checked the clock again. This time it read 3:30. I grabbed all of the black clothes that I had brought on this trip and threw them on. Everything around me seemed to say, “Don’t be late, don’t be late.” I walked out of the room.

By the time I arrived at Jetties Beach it was 4:00. I quickly pulled out a mask from my bag, and soon I looked like a totally different person. I didn’t know why I did this, but I did. The new person had a long pointy nose and was tan. My eyes were also a dark brown. I ran into a boy. He had brown hair and the sun sparkled off his hazel eyes. He was as pale as a vampire. He grabbed my arm. Something in me clicked. I kicked his shin and walked calmly into the ocean. I went underwater and soon the ocean washed off my disguise. I emerged again, except my clothes were now grey.

As soon as I resurfaced I felt someone tap my shoulder. I whipped my head around. Ugh, it was the boy again.

I said, “Why are you following me?”

“I’m Ben. Are you Elizabeth?” the boy replied, completely avoiding the question.

I don’t know why I did, but I answered his question. “No, I’m Lizzie.” Some part of me still had to be treacherous.

“Well, Lizzie, you used to be a spy,” the boy yelled over the crashing waves.

“What? You don’t know me. I am not a spy and I never will be!” I yelled, even though some tiny part of my heart decided to be a contrarian.

I didn’t exactly hear what he said over the cacophony of thoughts in my head and the deafening roar of the waves, but I thought he said, “You really were a spy. You just lost your memory. I’m not joking.”

I replied, “Stop telling me lies.”

Before whatever-his-name-was could say another word, I ran away. I thought I heard shouts of protest behind me. My footsteps echoed on the cobblestone road. I only slowed my pace down when I reached the sign at the entrance to the White Elephant Village and Inn. I was so absorbed in my thoughts of how much I couldn’t stand that boy Ben at all, that I didn’t hear the footsteps pounding behind me.

I had finally reached the door of the hotel room. How could that boy be right if I kept having a dream where I said, “I want to be a spy,” and someone said, “You can’t be one”? It was all so confusing. I swiped my room key in front of the door. I was so annoyed that I didn’t notice someone slipping in behind me.

I sat down on the bed and took a deep breath. I needed to forget all of this nonsense about once being a spy. I should focus on designing. If I didn’t work hard, then I would never be a designer when I grew up. I designed about five outfits and then began to sew. About an hour into this I felt a tap on my shoulder. I shivered and turned my head. I frowned when I realized that it was the boy who thought I was a spy.

“Wait, have you been here the whole time? And how did you get in here?” I yelled.

“Yes, I have been here the whole time, and I have my ways,” he replied.

“Just leave, whatever your name is,” I said.

“I’m Agent 42,” he replied.

I gave him one of my most deadliest looks and he finally began to back away and leave. I heard the door slam behind him. Finally I was alone. I lay down on my bed and closed my eyes, thinking that I would just rest for a second.

I was walking home from school, but then I stopped. A panel in the grass slid open and I jumped in. Everything was spinning around and around. I was in a small room. I kicked the wall, typed in something. POOF! Then I was in a bedroom. There was a note on the desk and a stalk of lavender. I reached towards the note and the circular wood desk it was on, but then the floor fell beneath me. I was in a long dimly lit hallway. A figure was approaching me. Then everything went black. My eyes fluttered open. I smelled something, muffins I thought. I sat up. There was a muffin, a bran muffin on my desk, along with a note which was probably from my mother. The second observation that I made was that all of my sewing equipment was gone. It was like it had disappeared.

There was a loud knock that almost sounded like a herd of elephants. I decided that I would ignore whoever it was who was knocking, guessing that it was most likely Ben. I wasn’t in the mood for any more of his spy nonsense. “If you ever want to get your sewing stuff back, then I suggest you open the door,” came the muffled voice of someone from the other side of the door. What? Whoever was on the other side of the door had stolen my stuff. I stomped to the door. I threw it open with a bang. Just like I thought, it was the spy-nonsense boy. I really was beginning to think that he had a concussion.

“Hello, Spy-nonsense Boy. This is the last time I am going to ever talk to you, so I want to tell you to not steal my stuff ever again!” I yelled.

“You really should be a spy Agent 12,” he said.

“Goodbye,” I replied and then slammed the door shut.

I waited until I couldn’t hear the pound of footsteps any longer and then I walked out of my hotel room.

I was walking on Main Street, which was practically empty at this time of day. I moved to the sidewalk when I heard the screeching of wheels. I could just make out the silhouette of a black van coming towards me and fast. I kept on walking down Main Street, staring at the windows of shops that lined the street. The van came to a halt beside me. My instincts kicked in and when arms reached out to grab me like tentacles on an otherwise calm sea, I fought the arms off. I hesitated when I saw the boy, or whatever he called himself. That’s when I realized something through the fading gleam of the sun. Some hidden memory came back to me. I was a spy. I was Agent 12 and the boy in the car was Agent 42.

I grabbed onto the ski rack on top of the van. Using all of my upper body strength I pulled myself up so I was on the roof. The van set off at a breathtaking speed as I held on for my life. I kicked the sunroof. Bang. Once, twice, three times I kicked. The glass shattered with a deafening crack. I reached through the hole with one of my arms. The other arm was clenched around the railing. I gripped my fingers around a rope when I felt it. I hoisted up the person who was attached to it. Hopefully it was 42. I paused. Was I really a spy? I couldn’t be one. I was just a normal girl. I clenched onto the rope and jumped from the car. My knees buckled underneath me and I fell to the ground and let go of the rope. That’s when the brick sidewalk fell out from beneath me.

I managed to hold on to the sidewalk with the tips of my fingers. I took deep breaths of air. “You can do this, Elizabeth,” I kept repeating to myself. “You can do this, you can do this.” After several minutes, I still hadn’t managed to pull myself up. My fingers began to slip, but I clawed my way back up again. I felt as if the hole was calling me, but I resisted. Agent 42 moved slightly closer to my hand, almost in synchronization with the sun as it moved lower on the horizon. I slowly began to pull myself up, inch after inch, minute after minute. Time ticked away slowly. I was still barely higher when my fingers slipped. I caught myself. That’s when I knew everything was going to be okay. Until my hands slipped. I grabbed onto the only thing I could find. Rope. I slowly pulled myself upward, my body a dead weight until I had hold of the brick again.

Agent 42 woke up and murmured something that I couldn’t hear through his gag. My hands slipped and I grabbed the rope again. Everything was going to be okay, until both of us fell into the depths of the cavernous hole. I untied the rope around 42 and made a makeshift lasso. I lassoed and just barely reached my target, a hook. Both of us agents who had been through so much were finally starting to crack as we held onto the rope, and the hook cracked just like our wills. I heard someone screaming. I don’t know whether it was Agent 42 or me.

I felt my way around my pocket. Yes! Somehow I had a grappling hook in there. The floor became closer and closer second after second. When it looked like we were going to smash into it, I pressed a button on the grappling hook and the hook was safely embedded in the wall above. I held onto 42 and jumped for the table. I landed with a jolting thud. I began to smell smoke and the odor of burning clothes. I looked down and I was on fire. 42 was too. We were surrounded by a ring of flames. Like carnivorous hounds, the flames licked us and sent pain throughout our bodies.

Then the pain was gone. I felt the methodical rocking of being carried. I was awake for long enough that I realized I was being taken to a hospital.

My eyes adjusted to the lighting that was so bright it blinded me. I didn’t know where I was. I saw someone sitting next to me, my mother I think. I knew that everything was going to be all right. “Maybe I am a sp…” I said just before I fell asleep never to awake again in this story.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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