Little Spy | Peter Parker ✓

[3]

I AWOKE ALONG WITH THE OTHERS, gasping out of my dreams and into the cold reality of real life. I, along with everyone else in this room, suffered from dark nightmares that plagued each hour in the night. However, at the Academy, people learned to erase and forget about anything that went on in heads. What happened in real life was all that mattered here.

As the nurse walked around and unlocked our handcuffs from the beds, I gritted my teeth and rubbed my wrists, swiping off any dried blood onto my greying nightgown. My body was stiff and aching from the night before, but I ignored the pain; whining about it would only make things worse.

The bed next to me was still empty; Francesca's, lying cold and bare with the sheets still made up perfectly. She had not come back. Maybe she never would; chances were, I would never find out. She was probably dead - and if she wasn't, she would be soon enough.

It was a test, that much I was sure of. Madame didn't do anything without a clear purpose, and the fact that she was carried out just before I was in the ring was no sort of coincidence. It was all some sort of plan, meticulously set up to drive a point. That was always what Madame did; I just wouldn't know why.

My eyes met anothers straight across from me, a younger girl staring at Francesca's bed, not bothering to hide her look of distraught. I remembered her; they were always whispering together and exchanging stolen food. They were friends, I believed, as much of friends as two could be at the Academy. She must be torn up over the loss.

That was the girl's mistake, caring for another. She was much too human still, meaning she would not advance for a long time. At the Academy, you needed to learn to give up any sort of emotions carried for anyone else, only focusing on yourself and what is necessary for you to accomplish. Emotions needed to mean nothing to anyone here.

"Freya."

It was the nurse who had unlocked us, now standing beside me, holding a single folded piece of paper. Her face was grave, serious - but so was everyone's here. It told me nothing of why she needed me. She only held out the piece of paper, urging me to take it, no words including with the frantic movement.

I didn't say anything back, hiding the plain paper from the view of anyone else, scanning the words quickly before crumpling it in my hands and dropping it away from reach. I followed everyone as I was supposed to, dressing and preparing myself mechanically, just as we were taught. Everything was a system, and I followed it perfectly.

This time, however, instead of following the line to the large hall, I parted ways and turned right down another. The nurse and I exchanged a quick look of understanding before I continued; she knew what to do in my absence, for she had too read the note.

I had only walked up and down this corridor three times in my stay at the Academy. Once, when I along with 27 other frightened young girls were first introduced. Twice, when we were told to perform a drill in which we were under attack. Thrice, when I had disobeyed a rule - the only time I had actually officially gone against orders in the Academy.

This would be my fourth.

In the dull silence, my feet thudded against the wooden boards like large rocks hitting water, echoing up and down and hurting my ears. It was designed that way so that even the quietest of girls could not escape the buildings. I hated it.

Third door to the right; Madame's office, complete with a shiny plaque depicting her name and position. Shadows passed through the glossy window, telling me that there were two people in there, waiting for me to come in. I only wished that the note had told me exactly why - or that there was some way of knowing my fate before swinging the door open and finding out for myself.