My 16th birthday; that was around the time that my life completely changed. You see, for many years I had been suffering from depression. There honestly wasn’t anything too horrible in my life. I had a caring mother, a nice home, and all the video-games I could ask for, but I still felt incomplete. There was always this void that could never be filled. Or so I thought. One night while I was thoroughly studying the sunset, I was visited by a lanky, intimidating man in a trench coat. In any other circumstance I would have tensed up due to my extreme social anxiety, but this was far from the case. He spoke quickly and concisely, and before I could even utter a reply, he was gone. In his single-breath of a sentence, he said he knew the truth about my father and my true potential.
Roughly a week later I had my second encounter with him. He was walking on the street in front of my house. I leapt up as fast as I was physically capable of; I followed him for 10 or 15 minutes before he entered an abandoned boathouse off into the woods. I was a bit hesitant to continue but my curiosity got the best of me. I tip-toed up to one of the windows and peaked inward. To my complete astonishment, I saw at least 30 other men in trench coats, most of them working on advanced looking computers. I saw the man I had been following and he signaled for me to come in. Feeling a bit embarrassed I entered slowly. He then explained to me that my father was assassinated to suppress his life’s work. “Why are you telling me this?” I asked. “Because you have the right to know, and we have an open position as a clandestine operative.” “When do I start?” He informed me that once he installed a tracking device behind my ear, I could start where my father left off; Over the course of the next two months.
I buried myself in my work. I often skipped school and avoided the few friends I had. I eventually received Intel that left me galvanized. The elderly widow who lived across the street was working with the organization that had my father killed. I knew what I had to do. That night, I waited until everyone was asleep. I snuck over to her house, making sure not to leave any evidence behind. Luckily, she forgot to lock her back door and I made my way in. With my gloved hand, I covered her mouth and nose. She struggled momentarily, but barely put up a fight. I departed as stealthily as I entered. The next day everything appeared normal, until my mother asked me to speak to a psychologist. After a few hours of questions I was hardly comfortable answering, they put me in a straight jacket. It was at this point I realized my mother and that psychologist were working with them. My mother cried and told me shoe loved me, but I knew she sold me out to them.