|To Be Extraordinary
Author: Hammsters PM
Tragedy has taken everything away from Madison: her way of life, her home, her best friend, her dream. Tragedy like that can change a person. Literally. Can Madison survive her new school for "gifted" kids like her and the group out to get her and her new friends, or will it end up in flames like the accident that started it all?Rated: Fiction T - English - Adventure/Friendship - Chapters: 8 - Words: 22,444 - Reviews: 24 - Favs: 2 - Follows: 4 - Updated: 10-10-12 - Published: 06-01-12 - id: 3028185
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Sup people! So, I'm here cuz, obviously, I gots a story to tells ya. Anyone interested in reading? You must be if you're on here. So, this is an editted version of the same story that I already have posted on Fanfiction. That's right, it's already on there, so if anyone knows it please don't report me for abuse or plagiarism, cuz that Hammsters and this Hammsters are one and the same. I was frustrated with how painstakingly awful the first draft of this was on FF, so I'm editting what I've already got written and posting it here for you lovely people to enjoy. Yup. So get on that.
"It's just a simulation," Dad had told me. "Nothing ever goes wrong during simulations," He'd assured me I'd be fine, that there would be agents watching to make sure we got in and out okay, that nothing that happened during a simulation could actually hurt me. I'm not entirely sure how true this is, but this is my first simulation, so I'll take his word for it.
I walk down the chilly, stainless steel floored hallway by myself, my steps silent as the grave. The cold no longer bothers me, it's been years since I paid any attention to the frosted glass walls or the cameras following my every movement. It's the same hall I've walked everyday since I was six years old. I don't even have to think as I tap in the security code to unlock the door. I push open the heavy metal doors and walk into the "classroom." Each wall is made up of bleeping computers, keyboards, and flashing video monitors. A man wearing thick wire-rimmed glasses and a white lab coat sits at a keyboard tap, tap, tapping in settings for the simulation. Mr. Raymond, our teacher, is leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, in his signature black t-shirt and jeans and a 5 o'clock shadow on his typically unshaven face. My two best friends Kayla and Allan Morris are standing at the other door talking animatedly. Kayla's blond head is bobbing emphatically, which anyone who knows her would know meant she was ranting, and Allan appears to be laughing at her. They see me and wave and I walk over.
"Hey guys. You ready for the simulation?" I ask.
"Oh yea! Bring on the bad guys!" Allan exclaims. Kayla doesn't look as excited.
"No! No I am not ready Madison Burner! The past seven and a half years of our lives have been leading up to this moment! What if we fail? I don't wanna have to keep training for another seven years, I don't wanna be doing this until I'm twenty, I really don't!" She rambles. Her brother pats her on the back sympathetically.
"Don't worry Kayla! You've aced every test you've ever taken! You're gonna blow them away," I assure her. She smiles.
"Thanks Mad. But if anyone's gonna blow them away it's you. Of the three of us, you're the best at practical exams," She says.
"Kayla, we've only ever had two practical exams and a simulation is totally different! It's like an actual mission! The littlest mistake and we're done, we'll be sent to," I shudder for emphasis, "regular school." I start chewing my lip, feeling panic begin to flood all over me.
"Relax guys," Allan replies with his usual confidence. "We're going to go in there, we're going to pass this test like it's nothing, and we are going to make history."
Let me explain a little bit. You see, seven years ago, there was this big controversy in the Central Intelligence Agency. Some of the top CIA agents wanted their children to begin training early. You know, to make them totally wicked awesome spies. But other agents, such as the director, weren't fans of the idea. They thought it wasn't fair to decide the kids' futures for them. So they made a compromise. Three of the most intelligent, most promising six-year-old children of a few agents were chosen to test the program out. Kayla, Allan, and I were, and still are, the test dummies.
Kayla's a technical genius. She can hack any computer in three seconds flat, figure out any device, design any kind of technical thing a spy (or spy in training) could want. She makes the CIA's best hackers look like little kids learning to type for the first time. Allan can make up and recite perfect plans and cover stories in the blink of an eye. He's unpredictable, an incredible liar, basically everything a spy should be. Me, I'm just great with weapons. Especially the ones that explode. I have been all my life, starting with building my own guns when I was about four- the CIA took these away when they found out what they did. Which is why I will be in charge of all our weapons during this simulation. Everything we've worked for since age six is leading up to this moment. If we do badly, we'll be the first and last people to participate in this program. That can't happen.
"Ready ladies and gentleman?" Mr. Raymond asks. We nod, he hands us the communication units and we walk into the simulation room. It's a large room filled with piles of explosives and nuclear weapons stacked from floor to ceiling. "The room you are currently standing in is a filing room of an enemy agency that's filled with our government's secrets. You have five minutes to blow up the room and exit without getting caught. Overhead, there are heat sensors on the ceiling attached to sprinklers that will spray a fatally poisonous acid on you if they go off. There's a guard heading your way who should arrive in approximately twenty seconds. The simulation begins now. Good luck."
"Right. Madison, you need to work on the explosion. Kayla, one of us needs to stop the guard," Allan instructs us. He doesn't need to tell me twice. I've already begun my work on lighting this puppy. I think as quickly as I can, everything I know about the weapons laying out before me darting through my brain at high speed. Then it all comes together and I know exactly how this needs to happen. The gun powder has to be connected to the rest of the guns to guide the explosion away from the ceiling, and all the weapons need to be connected to keep from any breaches in the set up. I'll need a match to set it off once all the wiring has been arranged, so I light one and hand it to Kayla so I can start working.
"Ooh, ooh! I'll go distract him!" Kayla cries excitedly. She runs toward the door, the match still in her hand.
"Wait! Kayla! The match!" I shout. She turns to look back at me with an expression of clear confusion, but she turns too fast and slips on her own shoelaces.
"Kayla!" Her brother yells. Allan runs to catch her but it's too late. The lighted match flies out of her hand towards a pile of boxes marked explosives and…
The fire, it's everywhere, intense heat tearing away at my skin. It's all I can see, just the burning white light all around. Kayla shrieks and screams, not even seeming to stop to breathe, and Allan keeps yelling our names. I squint through the fire and see he's buried under a pile of debris from the wall. There's a repetitive beeping sound coming from the ceiling, moving at a constant tempo, a beep every second. Then one rings louder and longer and an oddly colored liquid rains down from the sprinklers above us, stinging my skin, making it fizzle away layer by layer. My screams join Allan's, while Kayla's become choked and then stop all together.
"Kayla!" Allan yells again, more hopelessly this time. Blood runs down my arms and legs everywhere the fire or acid have touched it. The blood mixes with the acid and then freezes where it is on my skin. I can no longer scream, the smoke filling my lungs instead of the oxygen I so desperately need. I continue to choke on words, hoping that if I yell loud enough, the agents in the classroom will hear and come to help us, but no words come out and no one comes. I feel lightheaded, dizzy, and the heat of the flames cease to bother me. The worries and fear slip from my mind, so distant I can't even remember why I was afraid, and the only thought in my mind is that I really, really need to sleep. So I close my eyes, and allow the blackness to absorb me.
Yea, so this chapter's a little more PG-13 than the original version, what with the description of the fire that didn't exist in the first draft, but I hope I did an all right job with it. Reviews please