Well, this is a story that I have had the basic ideas for for a while. It's only now that I have decided to write it.
This is chapter 1. Can people let me know what you think? I want criticism of my writing, ideas, anything. Constructive criticism, mind you.
It is kinda short, but it is kinda just setting the scene.
If ya like it, I can write more. I have pretty much the whole story panned out in my head.
Enjoy.
Chapter 1
“Miss, I need the loo!!” Yelling out in fake desperation, I looked Miss up and down. She ignored me, and continued to assist one of the less intelligent members of the class.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. Glancing around, I took it out and sneaked a look- a text, stating simply ‘It’s time’. I sighed, and tried once again to get the teachers attention. “Miss!!!”
She looked round, finally. I held my planner up, waved it in the air a bit. “Fine. Bring it here.” she said. Getting up, I shoved my phone back into my pocket. I walked down between the desks until I reached the teacher.
She signed in the back of my planner. “Don’t be too long, you still have work to do. And could you take this down to Mr Mullard please?”
“Of course, Miss.” I stalked out of the classroom. ‘Perfect’ I thought. Mr Mullard was, after all, the target. Following the ever familiar corridors, I wound my way towards my locker. Digging out my key, I opened the lock.
Throwing my planner to the back of the locker, I let out a happy sigh as I placed my hands on the worn leather and the shiny red metal. Lovingly stroking the curves of the objects, I pulled them out and stashed them in my bag. They were my tools, after all.
For you see, I’m a teenager. Typically, I deal with school, boys and basically growing up. Standing at a mere 5 foot in height at the age of 15, I was the shortest of my year. Everyday worries, that’s all I should have to cope with.
But I’m not the typical teenage girl. I’m a teenage assassin. And I’d just been billed for another hit.
I felt my knives dig into my back slightly through my bag. Spinning on my heel, my long brown hair swishing behind me, I headed for Mr Mullard’s classroom.
*****
The door to his classroom had a small pane of glass in it. Peeping through, I noticed that he didn’t have a class this period. That would make things a great deal simpler.
Looking around the corridors and seeing nobody around, I broke into a run. I ran round to the yard outside, skidding to a halt beneath the window of Mr Mullard’s classroom.
Taking out my knives, I strapped them into place. Twin knives, twin daggers. The sheaths now strapped to my calves, I pulled them out to inspect them. The brilliant red metal and the sharp serrated edge caught the sun magnificently. Everything was in place.
Sliding my daggers back home, I stood and peered through the window. Mr Mullard was busy with something. This was panning out to be very easy- just the kind of job I like.
I took my pick out of my pocket and started to fiddle with the lock. I shivered, it running right down my spine. “What the hell is going on?!”
Twirling, I saw Dave, a classmate who had left the lesson earlier today, feeling ill. Right now, he was staring in horror at my daggers. I cursed. “Sh*t”. Things had just got a lot more complicated.
Thoughts?
This is chapter 1. Can people let me know what you think? I want criticism of my writing, ideas, anything. Constructive criticism, mind you.
It is kinda short, but it is kinda just setting the scene.
If ya like it, I can write more. I have pretty much the whole story panned out in my head.
Enjoy.
Chapter 1
“Miss, I need the loo!!” Yelling out in fake desperation, I looked Miss up and down. She ignored me, and continued to assist one of the less intelligent members of the class.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. Glancing around, I took it out and sneaked a look- a text, stating simply ‘It’s time’. I sighed, and tried once again to get the teachers attention. “Miss!!!”
She looked round, finally. I held my planner up, waved it in the air a bit. “Fine. Bring it here.” she said. Getting up, I shoved my phone back into my pocket. I walked down between the desks until I reached the teacher.
She signed in the back of my planner. “Don’t be too long, you still have work to do. And could you take this down to Mr Mullard please?”
“Of course, Miss.” I stalked out of the classroom. ‘Perfect’ I thought. Mr Mullard was, after all, the target. Following the ever familiar corridors, I wound my way towards my locker. Digging out my key, I opened the lock.
Throwing my planner to the back of the locker, I let out a happy sigh as I placed my hands on the worn leather and the shiny red metal. Lovingly stroking the curves of the objects, I pulled them out and stashed them in my bag. They were my tools, after all.
For you see, I’m a teenager. Typically, I deal with school, boys and basically growing up. Standing at a mere 5 foot in height at the age of 15, I was the shortest of my year. Everyday worries, that’s all I should have to cope with.
But I’m not the typical teenage girl. I’m a teenage assassin. And I’d just been billed for another hit.
I felt my knives dig into my back slightly through my bag. Spinning on my heel, my long brown hair swishing behind me, I headed for Mr Mullard’s classroom.
*****
The door to his classroom had a small pane of glass in it. Peeping through, I noticed that he didn’t have a class this period. That would make things a great deal simpler.
Looking around the corridors and seeing nobody around, I broke into a run. I ran round to the yard outside, skidding to a halt beneath the window of Mr Mullard’s classroom.
Taking out my knives, I strapped them into place. Twin knives, twin daggers. The sheaths now strapped to my calves, I pulled them out to inspect them. The brilliant red metal and the sharp serrated edge caught the sun magnificently. Everything was in place.
Sliding my daggers back home, I stood and peered through the window. Mr Mullard was busy with something. This was panning out to be very easy- just the kind of job I like.
I took my pick out of my pocket and started to fiddle with the lock. I shivered, it running right down my spine. “What the hell is going on?!”
Twirling, I saw Dave, a classmate who had left the lesson earlier today, feeling ill. Right now, he was staring in horror at my daggers. I cursed. “Sh*t”. Things had just got a lot more complicated.
Thoughts?