A/N: This story is based on the tv show Nikita but told from a new character's point of view. Please review! I'm new at this and i want to know if I should keep writing it. Does it sound interesting so far?

It was one of those days when I'm sitting in class pretending to pay attention, but I'm really just thinking about how slowly time passes when you want it to go fast. If somehow it was possible, then today was going by even slower than most days. In front of me some anorexic cheerleaders were planning a shopping trip out of town. To their left the football team guys were checking them out without even trying to be sneaky. There wasn't even anything to check out though. They were so flat! Normally I found this funny, but today I just thought it was annoying. Maybe it was because the clock seemed to be ticking so slowly as if simply to irritate me. Maybe it was because I had nothing to do except stare at either the teacher's confusing scribbles on the board, the clock, or the wall. Or maybe it was because today was going to be the best day of my life as soon as I left school and the darn bell wouldn't ring. Yes, today would certainly be the best day of my miserable life. It would also be the last. Today I would die.

If I could go back in time, I would travel 10 years back to prevent the tragic car accident in which my parents died. If only I would have known that they would die by going to pick up a pizza. Then I would have made them stay at home and helped my mother cook even though I was only 7 years-old. I would give anything to go back in time and stop myself from telling them I wanted pizza. Why did they insist on picking it up themselves? If I hadn't said "I want pizza," my parents might still be alive and there would be no need for me to die today. But I couldn't stop them from dying, and now I can't stop myself either.

No, I am not a depressed teenager on the verge of committing suicide. Of course, I am depressed. I never quite managed to get over it. I was sent to an orphanage after their death. There I spent six years before a nice couple adopted me. One year later, I was barely beginning to recover when they died too. They died the same way in a car accident while coming home from a department sore. I was with them at the time, and somehow, I ended up with only a few broken ribs. I was sent back to the orphanage for another year, and later at 15 I was moved to a foster home, only to run away a year later after being abused both physically and mentally. From there I spent a year on the street and was then taken to another orphanage. So I suppose you could say I am depressed. However, that is not why I will die today. I am not a depressed teen about to kill myself. The reason I, Roxanne Masen, must die today is because today is the start of my new life as a spy. Well, it's actually the first day of my training to become a spy. It all started a couple of months after being picked up from the street and sent back to another orphanage...

2 months ago:

I was sitting in the lunchroom picking at my food and wondering if it was edible. This was when I decided to conduct a small experiment on the reaction of the human brain. What would a person do if I were to chuck food at them? I grabbed a spoonful of the beans inside my burrito and flicked it across the room where it landed in one of the cheerleaders hair. Everyone around her gasped. I was trying my best not to burst out laughing when she screamed, "Who did this!" There were all kinds of reactions ranging from amusement to anger to what seemed like fear. She spotted a guy I knew from gym class who looked like he was having a seizure, and she threw a handful of rice at him. It landed on the people around him and then everyone went wild. I sat in one corner snickering quietly and admiring my work. Then, the small loudspeaker blared,"Roxanne Masen, please come to the principal's office. Roxanne Masen, to the principal's office please."

"I heard the first time," I mumbled. Nobody bothered to look around to see who it was, nor they didn't cease throwing food.

I walked glumly to the office thinking of ways to make the food fight look like an accident. I didn't want to spend the next week cleaning floors in detention. I wasn't paying much attention to anything so I only vaguely noticed the shiny black car in the parking lot. When I walked into the office I was expecting to see the principal preparing himself to give me another long lecture about my behavior. Instead I saw a tall man in an expensive looking suit. He was tall and lean, but muscular. He looked like he was in his mid-thirties. He would have made a good first impression if the first words out of his mouth weren't,"Are you the girl from the orphanage?"

"That's me," I replied bitterly. "Who are you?"

"My name is Dr. Collin. I am here to offer you a job," he said.

"Is it legal?" I asked.

"That depends on what you consider legal," he chuckled. "It's legal because you wouldn't go to jail. Does that answer your question?"

"Sort of," I responded. "What kind of work do I have to do?"

He looked uncomfortable as he said, "I'm not allowed to tell you the details in public, but I will tell you that it's for the government and it can be dangerous. I will also tell you that this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and if you choose to take it you will have a fresh start. We will fake your death and you will be given a new identity."

Hmm, that sounds interesting, I thought. "Okay, where do I go to get more information?"

"You come with me. We will go to the base of this organization and they will tell you everything you need to-"

"Wait up. Do you have a badge or something? How do I know you really work for the government?"

"I do have a badge, but this won't prove anything," he said as he pulled out his wallet and showed me an official looking clump of metal. "Anyone can forge a badge, and It is much easier when you have no idea what it's supposed to look like. You don't trust me because you don't know me, but I know you. " He smiled at my perplexed expression and continued,"Your name is Roxanne Masen. You were born September 3rd, 1993. Your parents died-"

"Okay, you made your point. Do we have to go right now?" I asked.

"Not if you don't want to. If you'd like, I could give you some time to think about it. However, the most I am allowed to give you is a week," he answered.

"Okay, I'll think about it," I replied.

"Then in one week we will meet at your orphanage. Goodbye," he said turned around and started walking towards the nicest looking car in the parking lot. I stood there for a few minutes wondering what was wrong with me. Here was a guy offering me the perfect escape from all my problems and I ask for time to think about it! I should have said yes on the spot. Then again, maybe it was best to think it over. He hadn't given me all the details for a reason. I knew he was keeping something from me that I would eventually find out. The question was, would I find out when it was too late?