Hello readers that read my stories for some reason :P
I have been having writers block on my other stories so I decided to take a break.
I wrote this as a tribute to those who suffered in the tragedy of 9/11. I am NOT making fun of it. That would be disrespectful.
This is about the story of Flight 93, which never reached its target.
I do not own American Dad, and I will say this...there will not be much American Dad in it at all. There will be a little, not a lot.
Well enjoy and please review
Prologue
It was just a simple relocation. Not that hard!
I never thought in a million years that I, Isabella Jefferson, would face death on a simple relocation mission!
Maybe I should start from the beginning.
My name is Isabella Maria Jefferson and I'm 16 years old. I have blonde shoulder length hair and golden eyes, and I don't wear contacts to make them that way.
I weigh about 110 pounds and am about 5 foot even. The perfect weight and size to hide in places a normal spy can't.
Did I mention I am an international spy and assassin?
Oops, that's kind of important...
When I was a newborn baby, a CIA agent disguised as a doctor told my parents that I was a still born. Then he took my not dead body to the New Jersey CIA headquarters.
I grew up in that place, learning all of it's secrets. I could go into any blocked off room without being caught.
The scientists and agents were my family and they helped me learn everything I wanted to know. Nothing was kept from me.
When I was seven, I was put through intense training. I learned how to silently break into houses, how to crack complex codes, and how to throw a knife from 50 feet away.
By the time I was thirteen, I was an intense killing machine.
It was on my 14th birthday that I was finally sent out on search and destroy missions.
That's right, I've killed people. And I have a better killing rate than most agents, try 100%
Anyways, I made a little slip up on a murder mission so the cops were on my ass. So the CIA decided to send me to it's sister base in San Francisco, California.
It was so simple! Pack only what you need, get past security, board the plane, sit there, and when you get into San Francisco wait for the agents to find me.
Not hard, right?
WRONG!
Things tend to get difficult when your plane gets hijacked by terrorists.
I think it's about time our story begins...
Sorry it's really short, I don't want this to be a really long thing. I may only write like 5 chapters, not even that.
Once again I would like to say that I am NOT making fun of 9-11. If anyone even suggests that I am, well..just don't.
Comments are required. I refuse to post another chapter until I get at least 5 reviews.
And you must include one positive and one negative thing. I want your opinions on how to improve.