Dangerous Little Girl

Chapter 3

The "boss" showed me to a room.

I managed to find the bathroom and I cleaned my face. I took my jacket off and I wiped the remaining blood off my dress.

As of right now I'm sitting on the vanity, next to the sink. Now I'm just thinking. Why did my father leave? If he loved me so much then why the hell did he leave? Where did he leave to?

All of these are important questions, but how the hell did he convince our whole family that he was brutally murdered in the woods? Whose body did they find? Whose body did the family cremate? Why did the body look so much like him? How did the body look so much like him???

It was all a lie.

It was all a fucking set up.

And I am fucking livid.

I, a seventeen year old girl, just found out that she had been sobbing, screaming into a pillow, and throwing fists at walls for six years over a man who she thought was dead.

Now all I want to do is shoot the man.

Why the hell would he do this to me?

Why the hell did I not find out sooner?

I want to cry. But I won't.

Ugh. I want to put my shoes back on and go for a walk around this gigantic place.

I swing my legs off the vanity and hop off. I look at my shoes, then at the shower. I look at the shampoo and conditioner. I quickly change my mind as I turn around and walk through the open bathroom door. I walk along the wall, to find the light switch. I find and flip in and the room lights up. I stare at the lightbulb on the ceiling in the middle of the room. It's just a lightbulb. Really?

I stare at the gray, windowless walls. I stare at the dark hard floor under my feet, then up at the white ceiling far above my head.

There's only three doors in this room. One leads out into the hallway. One leads to a bathroom with white tiles on the walls, floors, and the ceiling. And the door last door I haven't looked through, yet. I walk towards the door and open it. It's a whole closet full of clothes, shoes, and jackets.

I turn around as I hear the faint clicking sound of a key pushing into the doorknob to unlock my bedroom door. I see the door open and there he stands.

The boss and a woman. Woah..

The woman is tall, standing around 5'8. Her skin is pale, bringing out her light blue eyes and her cherry lips. Her blonde hair is in a high bun; in the bright light it seems like her hair glows. She is wearing a similar uniform as the other men.

He takes the key out of the door and he enters the room. He holds it open for the woman and shuts the door behind him. He leans on it and he stares at me. His jet black hair is just a little bit of everywhere, and he is wearing the same uniform as the other men. The same black dress shirt tucked into black jeans. The same black jacket and the same black shoes that make no noise at all, which is a blessing.

Do you know what it would sound like if all of those men were to be walking at the same time if their shoes made noise everytime they walked?

"Hello, my name is Misty. This is Lev Valent, he is our boss. We just have a few questions, if you are willing to answer them," She flashes a comforting smile.

"I'm alright with answering questions," I reply.

"Thank you. Could you please tell us everything you know about your father?" Misty asks.

"All I really remember about him is my Dad had a job where he had to leave for a few months at a time. But when he got back he always spent as much time with me as possible. We spent most of our time training and going out to eat. He taught me how to fight when I was roughly around six. When I asked him why he wanted me to fight, he said he wanted me to be able to protect Clara; my little sister. When I was ten one of he invited over one of his coworkers to eat dinner with us. I was washing dishes and he came in asking odd questions. When I told him I wouldn't answer, and tried to ignore him by looking away, he grabbed my arm. I grabbed a plate and smashed his head. That's why my Dad taught me how to shoot. In case any creeps tried to hurt me or my sister. When I was eleven I was told that he was killed while taking a walk in the woods. But you guys said he was alive, so I guess he faked his death and left, thinking that we'd be okay or whatever," I sigh. "There's my life story. I'm being honest when I say, I really don't know anything. I just figured out that my father isn't dead and I don't know whether I should cry or if I should track him down and get answers from the man himself. Then again, I'm so mad that I might just kill him." I sit on the bed, pulling at my dress. "What is this thing? This organization."