Blood Type Krista Nicholson P.8

Friday, 11:00 p.m.:

There I sat, in the fake hospital room. It wouldn't be long from now before they came for me. I contemplated my life so far. Nothing special is the conclusion I came to. I hadn't had the chance to do anything great, and now I never would. I heard then, the sound of the door knob turning, and I prepared for my death.

Friday, 9:00 a.m.:

Today, like every other school day, I slowly dragged my feet along the tiled floor to my third period French class. And, like every other day, my overly energetic best friend Jezebell came bouncing around the corner to walk with me to class. Unlike all those other long, tedious days, she had someone with her. He was tall, had dark hair that curled around his shoulders, and eyes so green they held me entranced like a snake charmer does a snake. Jez, as I usually call her, ran up to me and whispered in my ear.

"Remember that guy, the new one? I told you he was coming, right? Well, I have the extreme honor of escorting him around our lovely Sunny Hills High,"

She said the last bit with extreme sarcasm. No one liked our school. The food was bad, the football team couldn't beat their own grandmothers, (This is sadly a fact, all the football players' grandmothers had gotten together and played their grandsons to raise money for the local bunny rescue group, and won.) and the restrooms were so bad, even the janitors couldn't go in without gas masks. Jez started frowning then.

"I wonder what he thinks of it here, I mean, I heard he's here on an exchange program or something, and he came from this really fancy prep school. Does my hair look nice?"

Without waiting for an answer, she spun on her heals and headed strait into those awful bathrooms I was talking about earlier. I don't know how she does it. Meanwhile, her supposed charge was left standing in the middle of the hall with no clue what to do. I kind of felt bad for him. "So, what's your name?" I asked awkwardly. I'm not so good at the whole social interactions thing.

"Alexander,"

"Can I call you Alex?"

"No,"

"Oh…. So, lovely weather, isn't it?"

"It's raining,"

What a sunny personality he possessed. He should really think of going into a career of motivational speaking. At that moment, the intercom crackled to life and the voice of our secretary, Mrs. Brown, was heard throughout the school.

Would Veera Saunders please report to the central office for dismissal!

Weird, I wasn't expecting to go home early. I hope everything's okay, I thought as I walked away from the silent Alexander. Just before I turned the bend, I felt a sharp prick on the pack of my neck. I scratched at it before turning the corner, out of sight of the strange new boy.

Friday, 9:15 a.m.:

After struggling through the teeming masses of the student body, I finally burst through the heavy wood door and into the central office. Mrs. Brown, who I could immediately tell was obsessed with cats due to the multitudes of cat paraphernalia on her desk, waved me over.

"Are you Veera Saunders, sweaty?" She said in a kind, motherly voice. I liked her instantly. For some reason, I had never really seen Mrs. Brown before now. I made a mental note to look out for her later on.

"Yes," I replied with a smile.

"Your brothers are over there, have a nice day!" She pointed over to two fairly tall and muscular men standing in the entranceway of the school. I had never seen them before. Cautiously, I walked up to them.

"You are definitely not my brothers, so do you mind telling me what you are doing here?" I asked suspiciously.

"Come quietly and no one gets hurt," the taller one said in a deep, gravely voice. I laughed then,

"You have been watching way too many movies, maybe you should…" I trailed of as he pulled his jacket to the side, revealing a very deadly looking gun in a holster around his waist.

"What do you want with me?" I whispered, fear making my voice falter. His eyes took on a menacing glint, and then I did something very stupid. I pulled back my fist, punched that crack head in the face, and ran out the front door, away from all adult help. The second man, this one about an inch shorter than the first, followed me out. He caught me quickly; there really was no chance for me. I felt a prick and looked down to see a needle protruding from the side of my arm. A tear trickled down my cheek as I slipped into unconsciousness.

Friday, 1:30 p.m.:

I awoke briefly in the back seat of a van. I was bound and gagged. The world around me swayed as whatever drug was in my system tried to drag me back into its dark embrace. I clawed against it with all my might. I needed to know what was happening.

I could just see out one of the windows. Trees were flashing by at high speed. My captors must be driving on one of the back roads, there weren't this many trees near the city. My brain started to fog up again. My body was desperately telling me to go back to sleep, just for a minute, and since I had nothing better to do, I listened to it.

Friday, 7:30 p.m.:

I came to yet again (this was becoming a pattern, unfortunately) in a hospital like room. The walls were painted a creamy peach, and my bed had a blue and white striped blanket on it. In the corner of the room sat an older man on a stool. He looked to be a doctor, with his lab coat and clipboard, so I asked,

"Excuse me, could you tell me why I'm here?" He stood up and walked over to me before replying.

"You may remember that at your last checkup, you had some blood drawn for blood work. Well, it was found that you have a very rare blood type. You're a very lucky girl, Veera; only one in about 500,000,000 has it,"

"That still doesn't tell me why I'm here!" I was becoming frightened. There was something in his eyes and mannerism that made my skin crawl.

"Your blood has some very interesting properties to it. It can cure many diseases such as cancer, polio, and diabetes. As you can probably guess, that would make it very valuable. Many a dyeing person would pay millions for just an ounce of it. We plan on draining you of your blood, and selling it on the black market. After we sell it all, we will all be rich for the rest of our lives!"

"So you plan to kill me? And who is this "we" you keep talking about?" I was shaking at this point. I wasn't ready to leave this world yet.

"Why, the people I work for, of course. The Company is very exited to have found you. And as for your death, think of it this way. Imagine all the people that will live because of you!" And with that he exited the room.

Friday, 11:00 p.m.:

After sitting in my bed, thinking on my situation for a few hours, I began to feel very depressed. I would never again see Jez, or my family, Mrs. Brown, or my pets. I would never go to college or even get married. There was so much I wanted to do with my life, and none of it was ever going to happen.

Suddenly, the door to my room burst open, and in strode, of all people, Alexander! He looked different from this morning. He was wearing all black with his hair back in a pony tail, and he had an air of confidence and determination about him.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him, confused.

"I was sent to rescue you from this place and bring you back to The South West Connecticut Military Base,"

"Why didn't you get me sooner? I saw you this morning at school, you could have warned me!" I shouted, indignant.

"The reason I was at your school was so that I could plant the tracking device and sound recorder. You may have felt a prick on the back of you neck when I attached them to you. I had to shoot it at you as you were walking away. And as for not coming sooner, I needed to wait for the sound recorder to collect enough evidence to bring down this place. The FBI has been waiting a long time for an opportunity to infiltrate "The Company", as they call themselves. Now, no more questions, we have to get out of here before someone notices that the guard isn't radioing in anymore,"

He dragged me from the room, and I almost tripped over the legs of the guard to my room. He was laying against the wall, unconscious, a large bruise already forming on his face. We ran down the uniformly white hallways, and stopped in front of a set of steel elevator doors.

There was a keypad next to the call buttons, and Alexander quickly punched in an eight digit code before pressing up. I wondered how he knew it, but dismissed the idea as unimportant at the time. When the doors opened, a pallid, skinny man walked out with a teetering stack of papers in his arms.

"WHAT THE…"he exclaimed, but before he could raise the alarm, Alexander punched him in the face, effectively knocking him out. We stepped around him, and into the elevator just before the doors started closing. Alexander pressed the button for ground level, and leaned against the elevator wall, muscles tensed. The generic elevator music was making me jumpy, so I blurted out,

"What's going to happen to me?" I was really worried that I had just sentenced myself to an even worse death than the one I was facing here by following Alexander, a classic case of out of the pan and into the fire.

"You will be allowed to continue your life, as normal. Of course, it would be greatly appreciated if you would donate some of your blood from time to time. It could advance medicine exponentially," I sighed with relief. I could carry on with my life. Shortly after that, the elevator doors opened. We stepped out into a nondescript parking garage with a few cars parked here and there. I was surprised that we had gotten out so easily.

There was one car, a black sedan, with its engine running in the middle of the garage. Its windows were tinted, but I could still make out a burly driver with an earpiece, looking impatiently out at us. Alexander directed me to the back seat, and I got in. He followed me in on the opposite side. As the driver drove out of the garage, I caught sight of the night sky that I had never expected to see again. I left that horrid place with a new respect for the time I had left to me in life, and a drive to do as much good with my special blood as I could.