It's not hard being someone else. All you have to do is become. But it's harder keeping your two personalities separate. Because, once in a while they merge. And that's one of the greatest fears of a spy.

Everything is wrong. Her stance is too tense, her feet too far apart, her body is angling in the wrong direction and she looks way too frustrated to actually hit the punching bag correctly. She hits the punching bag one last time with a frustrated moan. Letting her hands swing by her sides in defeat she quickly turns around and bends to get her water bottle but then the punching bag swings right back and smacks her in the butt (Rule Number 54: Always keep your guard up) She goes flying with a look of shock and hits the floor a foot away from where she was.

My eyes widen in astonishment how is it possible for someone to suck as bad as she does?

I watch her for a little while longer until I feel bad and a little sick at the way that she is messing up the simple art of hitting a punching bag. I mean come on it swung back and hit her in the butt. So I stealthily swing down from the air vent I was casually spying through and hit the ground without a sound. I blend into the shadows and lean against the wall.

She mutters under her breath:
"I'm doing it wrong"
"Way to point out the obvious" I say with a very exaggerated sigh. Pixie Girl shrieks.
"Who are you, where are you?" She asks with her voice a few octaves higher than it should be.
"Well you know I'm just a witch cooking dinner for her wizard husband" I say sarcastically. She's still searching around the small room for me her eyes passing the place I've hidden in several times. (Rule Number 52: People see what they expect to see)
"It's past dinner time" she says oh so smartly back.
"No kidding," I reply with a roll of my eyes she can't see.
"Show yourself you coward"
"You know that line only works in movies right?" I reply.
"Oh just shut up and stop hiding" Pixie Girl cries. "Please" she adds almost like a last resort. At that I lean out of the shadows and tap her shoulder. She jumps and shrieks.
"Geez, save my ear drums, would you?" I ask, wincing. "You have some pair of lungs there, Pixie Girl"
"My name is Liz" no duh
"I know but you look like a pixie." At that she scowls and we have a mini staring contest until she gives up after a few minutes; water brimming against the lids of her eyes.
"What d'ya want?" she asks with a scowl.
"You suck" She musters up a pathetic glare and tried to look intimidating which is very hard when you look like a pixie or when you're Liz. A sentence slips out of my mouth one that I know I'll either hate or eventually appreciate later in life.
"I could help"

***NBTT ***NBTT***NBTT***

I am such a freaking idiot. Really, I am.

In short this is what Liz did: laugh and ask how the new kid would know anything about packing a punch gave me a disbelieving glance. Picked up her water bottle and left the room. In exactly that order.

I lean against the wall and slide down to the floor, my shock making my knees feel weak. What had just happened? I was vulnerable. I wasn't mean. I didn't act the least bit jerkish. I acted like myself.

And darn that scared me.

***Time skip***

The vents are not a clean place. In fact the vents quite dusty you know that 'haven't been cleaned in over a century' dusty. So why do I like to travel in them you ask? I have absolutely no idea.

Nausea engulfs me as I crawl through another vent entrance. So I start crawling through another set of vents to get back to my single room dorm. The thick dust around me swirls when I let out an uncalled for cough and doesn't help my sudden rising fever.

The silver- grey walls are surprisingly sturdy but once I think about it, it isn't really surprising. A spy school needs what a spy school needs. And apparently it includes vents that can hold the weight of a person or in fact more than one person.

Once I reach my room I lift the small metal grate placed in the top right corner of my room and shimmy my way out. Still hanging, I grip the lid with my left fingertips and slowly ease it back to its spot I drop to the ground and let my arms hang by sides. With a small clanging sound the lid falls back into place. I don't have the energy to scout out the room the way I normally do the minute I enter. The only thing I give notice to is my bed (which suddenly looks very comfy and welcoming) and the digital clock on my bedside; blinking quite hurriedly I might add to show that it was well past midnight and coincidently well past curfew as well. I don't even bother to change before dropping onto my bed like a dead weight since I can barely keep my eyes open without seen multiple images.

When was the last time I slept? Scratch that when was the last time I had a good night's sleep?

When I got myself barely comfortable on the mattress, the exhaustion overwhelmed me and I fainted into sleep.

A sheen of cold sweat covers my body and I'm trembling so bad that I know I can never let this happen again. At least not here where I can look vulnerable, be vulnerable. The clock by my bedside table catches my eye and I scowl in frustration once I notice that I've only gotten four hours sleep. I sigh in pure anger and run my hand through my hair. Well it'll have to last.

I calm down after a couple of moments and look around in confusion. Why don't I remember? And then I know. I don't remember because it's THE DREAM. I never remember the whole dream. It's always in flashes, small mobs and discrete images; sometimes repeating over and over again. I never understand it, I never remember it.

It's the fire it's always the fire that I remember the most. I know what happens. I don't forget no matter how much I want to. I always get remined in my nightmares. I may be a spy but I have fears. I'm not perfect. I'm afraid of my nightmares. Of how the only person I ever loved unconditionally and took care of me with passion, made sure they took her life instead of mine.

***NBTT***NBTT***NBTT***

The air vents are now my safe-haven. These dusty, dirty, sturdy walls are now my midnight means of transportation. It's ridiculous really, how in a school full of spies, I feel the safest in roach infested vents. I don't know where I'm travelling to. The vents are my safe-haven so I will go where they lead me. They lead me back to Liz.

AN: Yes I have done it I have updated twice in one day. Consider this my apology for not updating for ages. Please please review. I love review legit I cheer when I get one and they inspire me to update faster so thanks to the guest reviewer who reviewed yesterday because you got me to start writing again and I am now filled with inspiration again. I will be starting to take this story in a different direction to the original one starting next chapter. So yes please review and I'll catch you guys later :D

Cheers