In which Abby tries to make a self-insert fanfic that doesn't thoroughly suck. Reviews & feedback appreciated. Just practicing writing really!

de·vi·ant

adjective

Differing from a norm or from the accepted standards of a society.

You can say television is for information… You can also say it's for entertainment. But somewhere in the middle, is where writers and authors try and pick at and aim to capture and bring to life on screen and page. Characters are created and developed with the same insecurities and issues that also effect the viewer. Yet, we watch these fictitious lives safely from a distance in the comfort of our homes.
My name's Abby. I'm 17 years old, and this is where it gets complicated.

Maryland. Home of the Baltimore Ravens, crabs, and an affection of the word "Hun". It's where I grew up, and where I attended high school. Most of it anyway… but more on that later. For a last day of freedom before the summer activities came to a close, my friends and I decided to go to the mall. Typical for most teenage girls you can say. For me, it was more of a "Buy clothes with your friends so you wouldn't have to with your mother" type of thing.

So, off I went to Ridgeview Mall, the enthusiasm of shopping just bursting out of me. Scanning the food court, I spotted the elevator across the way.

"Okay, upstairs, by Forever 21, in front of the kiosk for the fake cigarettes." I muttered, reminding myself of the meeting place my friends and I all agreed upon.

I nudged the elevator button with my elbow- "it's more hygienic!" says mom, and the doors opened with a ding. Stepping into the lift, I turned around and pushed the button for the second floor.

You really always have those demonic-horrible-how can you even- second thoughts that always linger in your mind. One that's applicable, what if the elevator stops? WELL...

My heart jumped in my chest as the lights sparked over my head. I punched the help button, but I couldn't hear if it dialed a number or anything, somebody had cut the power.

Want to know what's just awesome to happen when stuck in a glass elevator? It's certainly a LOVELY time for a delinquent to a robbery. Especially one in the food court. Just swell.

When the first shots rang out, I dropped to the floor of the elevator. If anything, I was a sitting duck suspended 20 feet in the air.

There wasn't much I could do besides watch the man and a group of his friends kill the police stationed in the mall. The screams that burst out, were quickly silenced by the rat-tat of a Tommy gun into the skylights.

"Wait- Tommy Gun? This isn't the freakin' 1920's!" I thought.

And yet, it really made impossible sense when Myka Bering ran around the corner, Tesla crackling in the dim daylight.

The world seemed to slow down. Sure, I had the occasional "I wish the Warehouse was real" thought, but it wasn't exactly worth a bullet in the chest.

I army crawled closer to the wall of the elevator. Mostly everyone had scrambled out of the vicinity, save for Myka, the guy, and a couple of goons. Two mall cops lined the floor, dead. The sounds were muffled, but it looked like a bargain was trying to be made. Myka shook her head, and kept her Tesla held strong in her secret service posture. From my high perch, I spotted a clean shaven head pop up behind an overturned table. Oblivious to the other agent, the men raised their guns.

Pete Lattimer fired his Tesla, taking out the center man. In the rush, two well executed shots had his goons dropped like flies.

Pete stood up fully from behind the table, as Myka approached the bodies. Kicking the guns away, Myka started taking out pairs of handcuffs. Pete held out one hand, pinching his fingers together, and waved his hand back and forth. Myka smacked him on the shoulder. I smirked. "Probably some quote from a gangster movie." I thought.

The immediate danger gone, I stood up in the elevator. Pete shook out a static bag, and scooped up the center man's gun after snapping on a purple glove. He dropped it in the bag, moving his face as far away from his outstretched hands. I watched semi-eagerly, as I finally got to see an artifact being neutralized without special effects. My feelings were dampened when the sparks didn't appear. Well, damn.

I frowned in the enclosed space. I could hear raised voices as their confusion rang out, but my attentions shifted to my escape.
The power still cut, my furious button pressing did no good.
I turned around, bringing my fist to the clear glass.

My stifled knock echoed in the empty food court.
"Mykes," Pete pointed up to the elevator. I gave a halfhearted wave.

Police were on the scene soon, most likely thanks to the other people and their frantic 911 calls. I had to watch everything while I waited for firemen to come and get me out. My eyes trailed Pete and Myka as they leaned against Kibata's sushi counter, huddled next to each other. They pulled a metallic tin. "The Farnsworth!" I couldn't help but grin to myself.

The firemen's voice came out of the elevator speaker. "We're just setting up the ladders!" I looked down to a man clad in yellow speaking into a microphone. They probably thought I was elated at the fact I was getting out of the death box. I was, don't get me wrong, but... anyway. I gave a quick thumbs up and half smile down to the fireman, before directing most of my attention on the warehouse agents.

"What do you mean the robbery didn't involve an artifact?!" Artie's muffled voice rang from the Farnsworth Myka held open in her hand. Pete looked on over her shoulder. "Well, we only got a ping from the mall, we already bagged the poker from Mrs. Kila's house... She gave us cookies too..." Pete smiled at the memory of gooey chocolate, looking to Myka for support.
"Just find out what it is!"

Myka sighed as she shut the lid closed.

Things were getting louder, so it wasn't exactly the dead quiet hall from earlier. I saw their confusion, and the slight wincing during their conversation, so I figured Artie was mainly pissed.

The doors behind me suddenly lurched open, and about 3 minutes later, I was on solid ground. I kept my gaze mainly straight ahead, my stomach twisting at the sight and scent of blood of the deceased officers on the ground.

Two figures approached me, clad in blue. The officers were pretty straight forward, asking personal info and what I saw. Talking about meeting my friends, reminded me "Crap, I need to call them...". As we neared the end of the story, I began to get concerned. My eyes widened slightly as I tried to think of something. Would it be too coincidental that two secret service agents were on the scene?

A hand landed on my shoulder.

"We took care of them. Nothing a well shot Taser couldn't fix" Pete said.
"Secret Service." Myka said helpfully, flashing the badge to the two officers. "We'll take it from here"

The officers nodded, having received enough for documentation, and walked back to the throng of cops.

I let out a small sigh of relief. Gaining a bit of confidence, I sort of knew these people, right? I asked "I thought the president was out of town?" with a bit of snark in my voice, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah well, kid, it's called the SECRET Service for a reason." said Pete.

Honestly? It was a bad cover up. Anyone in real life most likely wouldn't agree to that.

I paused.

Was this real life? I didn't fall into a weird coma or something and mom left Netflix running because it's my favorite show? Wait, have I paused too long?

"Oh, err, right... Of course." I shrugged, trying to pass it off.

"Right well, I'm Agent Bering, this is Agent Lattimer. Is it alright if we ask a few questions about your day..?"

"Well, you certainly saw how it ended..."

Myka shifted into a polite business position. Y'know, the one where she leans slightly to the side, yet crosses her hands in front of her?

The questions were pretty basic, much like the police, but in a more of an artifact-hunting way. They varied from "What brought you to the mall?" To "When in a certain store, did you suddenly have the overwhelming urge to dive in a pool?"

Most of the answers were no. Pete, getting a little bored, began to pace.

"And then I got in the elevator, there was a spark, and it stopped. You know the rest."

Pete and Myka glanced at each other. Slowly, we made our way over to the elevator. After flashing their badges to the firemen, they were allowed inside the elevator which now had been properly returned to the ground.

I sighed. Figuring this out would be a lot harder than I thought. Plopping my butt down on a food court chair, I took out my phone. Tapping the green phone icon, I dialed the number to my friends.

Each and every one was voice mail.

I shook my head. They were probably on the phone with their parents... Something I should probably do.

So, I dialed my home number.

I heard a voice answer. It wasn't either of my parents, it was too high for that. It was... my own.

I immediately hit end, dropping my phone. Of course this was when Pete and Myka walked closer.

"I swear I smelt it, Mykes. The shnozz isn't wrong"

"Except the time when you tried to give moldy cheese to Leena."

"I thought that was the expensive stuff!" Pete argued, talking with his hands. He stopped, sniffing. "Myka..." He said.

I reached down to the ground, lifting my newly cracked screen back to the table, frowning as I tried to turn it back on.

Looking around, I saw Pete Lattimer was staring intently at me. And it was getting creepy.

"Pete, what?" Myka asked. "Is it a vibe?"

"Well yeah..." Pete sniffed again, this time longer. "And she smells like fudge."