It was in a normal day at a normal time when I realized I should be dead.
it wasn't normal after that.

I tried to act normal

Aunt Abby always told me that the subconscious talks (more so in dreams than anything else) and to always listen to what it says.

I tried to act like Cameron Carter

She reminded me to always listen to it when it speaks because it's the light in a dark alley.

I tried to hold the current in

It was the first time a memory occurred in my dream in a long time. Is that some kind of message? Is my subconscious trying to tell me something?

I tried to be the opposite of me; with no feelings or dreams

And if it's trying to tell me something, then what's the message it's trying to get across?

And once again, I failed.

I sit by the pond with my back against a tree; a picture perfect view of casual. I hope you know me enough to know I'm anything but. My 'fellow spies' are gossiping and playing around the water a few ways away from me, or inside the building studying. Right now, I like the spies in the building better.

The teens outside are wild, loud, shrieking, running around for the life of them. They're so carefree that a civilian can easily mistake them for normal teenagers.

It's truly unfortunate that they are probably not seeing me in that way whatsoever.

I'm glancing around, my eyes cutting to different areas of the schools properly expertly; my body, always ready for a fight—except at night.

Curse after curse fills my head for the nightmare that bombarded me last night. I shouldn't have been that weak, that vulnerable, that pathetic. I should've been in control, been in power. How weak can I be that I can't even control my own dreams?

The sun blazes my face but I don't turn to the shade. Instead, I stretch my legs out and stand up. I don't have a specific destination but I walk in the sun. I accept the burn on my skin and let my legs lead me to the very edge of the school's property; where the gates are closed and the walls are made of stone, built up high.

I walk along the wall, my fingertips lightly tracing the bricks as I walk an arms distance away from it. I don't expect anyone to miss me, ask for me, inquire my absence. But a snarky voice inside my head insists I care.

I really plan to kill that voice one day, you know, once I figure out how.

I walk until the shrieks of the girls are out of my hearing range and the trees here are unrecognisable. I examine each one—leaf for leaf, root for root, bark for bark—until the area ingrates into my memory. I was sent here for a mission and I remind myself that as my fondness for the school grows. I cannot afford to get attached. Spies that work alone cannot afford much.

As my walk continues, I glance up at the sky. I observe. And then I sigh irritably.

It is going to rain. And pretty hard, as the clouds say.

I quicken my pace but don't journey into a flat-out run. The rain can't do any damage to me and I always wondered why people are so anxious to get away from it.

I feel the first drop slide down my nose. I glance up again and the second hits my eyebrow. As the third, fourth, and fifth come faster than the others, I know my hunch is right. A rain storm is coming and it will probably last a few days. And I can use this to my advantage.

XxNothingButTheTruthxX

I miscalculated and all I want to do right now is bang my head against the closest tree until common sense starts to make an appearance. The rain pounds on my skin, making my black shirt, hair, and dark jeans cling to me in response.

I'm stuck in the rainstorm with no knowledge of how to get out.

XxNothingButTheTruthxX

"CAMERON!" The voice is a distant yell but that doesn't stop me from screaming back pathetically.

"CAMERON! IS THAT YOU?" As far as I hear, there aren't any other voices calling out to me so I take this foolish chance and yell back a positive.

The rain clings to me like second skin and I stand corrected from my other statement. The rain does do damage. I release a loud sneeze and shiver. How am I supposed to do what I was sent here for if I get sick?

"CAMERON STAY WHERE YOU ARE! I'M COMING!" I sigh in annoyance. I can barely see five feet ahead of me and I can't risk trying to find my way out only to slip and break something in my body.

Someone crashes into me from behind and I gasp as I land in the mud face first. That said someone then quickly leaps off of me and none too kindly yanks me on my feet. That said someone is Zachery.

His hair is slicked and stuck to his face. His clothes are damp and hug his body while also bringing him down due to the weight. His hands and pants are muddy on account to the fall and his dark green eyes are bright and angry.

"Which way is out?" I yell through the rain, spluttering out up and wiping the mud from my face.

He glares at me vehemently, grasps my arm again, and yanks me to my left. We slip and slide through the mud as we make our way to Zach's destination. He yanks a cleverly hidden lever down from the side of the school building and a door a small, gray square size slides opens. Zach has my legs and throws me into the small space before I comprehend what is going on. He slides in behind me and the door of the vault snaps shut.

I open my mouth to swear but he manages to start before me with, "Where the hell have you been? Mr. Smith was going batshit crazy—although he was good at hiding it—and here you are in the middle of the woods, shivering your heart out. What the heck, Cameron?" His voice echoes through the room and I have to restrain myself so I don't smack him. Who did he think he is, making me seem like the damsel in distress?

"Shut-up, Zachery" I mutter, shaking the water off my body.

He gapes, "No, you shut up. Stop playing that act like you're mister tough girl because you're not and I don't know how I'm the only one who sees it!"

"It's not an act," I seethe.

He growls, turns around, and throws something to the floor beside me. "Get dressed and dry," he demands, "I don't want to have you sneezing all the way through the vents."

"Jerk," I murmur.

I'm in the nurse's office.

I'm in the nurses' office drinking some hot tea like a freaking twelve year old. How dare they!

I should be asleep but I can't. I won't.

The white walls of the nurses' office along with the white of the bed sheets, cabinets, desks and practically everything else in this room do not comfort me. They disturb me, annoy me. I've never liked bland but this isn't about what Cammie would like. I have to push her to the far corners of my mind so she doesn't make an appearance again.

As the nurse leaves the room I crush the pain relevant and sleep pills with my fingertips.

And then I make sure that I have a completely accurate calculation of finding my way out of this room.

After letting out a few sneezes and a couple lung-hacking coughs.

"You can get out of that vent now, you know. I know you're here,"

I freeze for a second before swinging down to the floor. "I've got a word for you, buddy," I mutter, "And it isn't a nice one.

Mr. Smith chuckled. "Aren't you supposed to be in the Nurses office, Cammie?"

"It's Cameron." I growl. "And no."

He raises his eyebrows and stirs the tea in his hand with a small spoon. "Then where are you supposed to be because I know it's not here."

He glances at the clock that is placed on the wall but we both know he does it to make a statement rather than to show me the time. Spies learn to make an internal clock inside them.

It's late evening and the rain is still pouring in by buckets. The students are all in the dining area eating dinner. Mr. Smith slowly glances back to me. I shrug. I have tones to do and speaking to Mr. Smith is the first.

"I am supposed to be here," my voice is low, "because I have some things to ask; some things to say." I move to sit on the velvet chair in front of his desk, "some things that you need to answer."

"Then, by all means, proceed my dear."

"FASTER! HARDER! PUNCH STRONGER! DON'T YOU DARE HESITATE BECAUSE I SURE AS HELL KNOW THAT THE ENEMY WON'T!"

Elizabeth puts her hand up. Her body sags in exhaustion. She's only been going at it for twenty minutes and although it's an improvement from the last session it sure as heck isn't enough to save her life.

I give her a levelled glare but throw her water at her. She grasps it in the air, hurriedly opens the cap and drinks greedily.

I brush the wig from my eyes and blow out a breath. The room is dark and the lights that shined bright a month ago are dimming.

"How do you know this stuff?" she quietly gasps.

I planned for this question and when I answer it comes out as smooth as butter. "I used to be in gangs."

"But I looked at your background; it says nothing about gangs."

I smirked at her, playing the part of Cameron perfectly, "If there's a will, there's a way."

I let her rest for another minute or two before I make her continue. It's around twelve at night and I want to drag this on for a second half hour.

"You're eccentric, Cameron Carter." She mused while she punches a long way later.

"As I've been told," I reply dryly.

"I've noticed something about you," Another punch, kick, roundhouse to the punching bag. I yell at her to correct her stance before replying.

"Do tell."

"You don't follow your heart." It's twelve thirty on the dot and I know that's the only way she has the guts to tell me this. If she finds out it's the wrong this to say she can run out of this place like a bat outta hell.

"Yea, well," I start as she quickly picks up her belongings and I can reach the vent. "Sometimes following your heart means losing your mind."

Hi. This is like 1, 860 words long. I hope it makes up for my absence. Thank you for all the reviews especially to those guest one: You know who you are.
I really want to do more to this chapter but I also really want to just post it already because I already delayed it a lot so here it is!:

Random Fact: I have a Pintrest and a Wattpad and If you wanna follow me then just PM me about which one you wanna follow :)

_May