Well, here it is! My first story! Sorry it hasn't got much going on, I wanted to introduce everyone!
I hope you like it and please, please review!
Cherub...
Nothing to lose...
A harsh wind filtered through the open window, blowing papers around the room. Two girls sat on adjacent beds, one in the lotus position with her eyes closed, and another looking at five different books before righting down notes.
"God can't you close that bloody window, it's freezing in here, and my notes are being blown everywhere!" The one looking at her books said. She was a rather plain girl with a short mousy bob and thin lips. The other girl said nothing, but opened her eyes a fraction to glare at the other girl.
"Freak." The plain girl muttered, standing up and walking to the window before slamming it loudly. Shaking her head, the silent girl untangled herself and opened her eyes.
"I'm not the one who left her homework 'til one o' clock in the morning, and bothered to do it." She muttered scathingly. She got down on the floor, digging around before finding a bottle of vodka. Of course, she was too young to drink it, but what did it matter? The home she was in was too full to notice if she was drunk or hung over. She felt eyes on her, and pulled back steadily, a glare already on her pale face.
"Do you mind not staring at my arse?" She said in a strong Lancashire accent. The boy behind her was annoying, overly-confident and he dressed like a chav. He blinked and shook his head before speaking again.
"I was just wondering where you were going with a bottle of vodka?" He asked her bluntly. Her eyes widened and she looked over at her roommate. Perhaps there was a God; she had her earphones plugged in.
"Somewhere you're not." She muttered, standing up. Even at full height, she was tiny, standing at only 4'11". The boy, James? Put his hand against the frame as she got close, preventing her from leaving. She grabbed it and tugged, using his weight advantage to flip him onto the floor.
"Agh! Cherry!" He called after her, but she was already on her way into the toilet. Once she was in there, she locked the door and went over to the window. She hated her nickname, but it was her own fault. It was her choice to dye her hair bright pink. She loved the style too much to change it though; it was short and spiky at the back, but straight and long at the front with a large side fringe that covered her forehead and the tip of her nose, obscuring one eye completely. Her eyes tended to scare people, shocking silver with a huge black ring around the iris; they always seemed to catch the light too. Her small baby-like hands pushed the window open, and she hoisted herself up onto the roof. Standing up and wobbling slightly in the breeze, she climbed to the top of the roof of Lancashire Children's Care Home. Sitting with her back against the chimney, she unscrewed the bottle and raised it to her lips.
"Here's to this dump I wish I could call my home." She said, lifting it up, as if sharing the bottle with the full moon. She raised the bottle back to her lips, but before she could take another swig, she felt those same strange eyes on her.
"Can't you just leave me be?" She grumbled. James came and sat next to her.
"I know you're too smart to be drinking that." He said pointedly, in his, I'm-so-smart kind of way.
"You know nothing about me." Cherry mumbled, voice slightly slurred.
"I do though, I know a lot about you." He said earnestly, in a knowledgeable way that scared her slightly.
"Whatever you're selling, I ain't buying." She said stubbornly, before raising the bottle to her lips. Only a drop actually made it into her mouth before the bottle was slapped out of her hands. She heard the smash as the bottle hit the tiles. Shocked, Cherry stared at James. Her hand slowly went to slap him, but he grabbed it, and twisted it round. She felt a sharp jab into her elbow.
"Whafu-" Were the only slurred words before she began to slip out of consciousness.
She woke up groggy, with one hell of a headache. She groaned, trying to remember the night before and coming up blank.
"How much did I drink?" She mumbled to herself. Her hands crept around, realising the size of her bed, and how it didn't creek when she moved. It had to be the comfiest bed she'd slept in since… She stopped herself. That was the old her, it didn't matter anymore. Her eyes opened, and she was noticed it wasn't her room. The room was large, but not quite large enough for two people, but it had many things you wouldn't find in a bedroom. Mini-fridge, kettle, microwave, this place was amazing. She spotted the clothes on the floor, and grimaced.
"Why'd it have to be orange?" She muttered, orange was not a good colour on her. A thought struck her, and her hand strayed to her nose. The ring was gone. She swore loudly, that stud had cost her so much! Pulling her close fitting grey top over her head, she snatched up the clothes that had been left to her and slid into them. She tucked the orange shirt into the army like trousers and walked towards the door. It opened easily, and she slid into a crowded corridor. Her head constantly ached, and her muscles were torture. She responded badly to sedatives, they made her head hurt and her movements slow. The people around her were dressed like her, but the shirts were different colours, some grey, some navy and others black. She walked up to a boy and opened her mouth, but he was quicker.
"Can't talk to orange." He said, and walked off. Cherry stood there, annoyed and shocked. Turning around, she tried with a girl, and got the same response. The third person she tried pointed along the corridor and gestured for her to go right. She followed the directions, and spotted a staircase. Almost running down it, she found a reception desk. The woman looked older than anyone else here, and despite normally hating adults, Cherry went straight to her.
"Please don't say 'can't talk to orange', but what's going on?" She asked helplessly. The woman smiled at her kindly.
"Good evening, please follow me." She asked stepping out from behind her desk and walking off. Cherry followed her warily. The receptionist came to a door, and knocked on it.
"Enter." A vaguely Scottish voice commanded. The receptionist left me, and I pushed the door open tentatively. A smiling middle-aged man waved me into his office.
"Now, Cheryl Carter, I suppose you'd like to know where you are." He asked.
"Yes, that would be nice. Also, do you have any painkillers?" She mumbled, grimacing at the pain in her head. The man frowned at that.
"Of course, you don't like sedatives, do you?" He said, pushing two small tablets and a glass of water towards her.
"No, sir." She said, taking the pills gratefully.
"Now, let's begin. You're on the CHERUB campus." He said, as if that explained everything.
"And what exactly is CHERUB?" Cherry asked.
"CHERUB is an extension of the British Intelligence, but instead of using adults to infiltrate places, we use children. Criminals have been doing it for years, and so have we." He said in an off-hand way.
"And why am I here?"
"You're here because, though you are older than our average recruit, you already know two languages fluently, and are learning a third already, you are very smart, and have advanced training in combat. We are here to offer you a place in CHERUB."
"Well, what can CHERUB offer me?"
"We can give you one of the best educations that this country can offer - all of our students go to top universities when they retire from CHERUB- and we can also offer you a home. We have a school onsite, and many sporting facilities including a running track, a gym, a dojo, shooting range and several more."
"What would I have to do to join?" She asked warily. It sounded too good to be true, this had to be a dream, or a joke.
"Well, you have to pass five tests, and you have to agree to join the British Intelligence. Are you interested, or should we send you back to your home in Lancashire" He said. Cherry thought for a moment. She didn't have anything to lose, and this was obviously not a joke.
"I'll take the tests, sir." She said, and he beamed.
"Call me Mac." He said, before leading her out of the office.