Young Writers Society

A woman who looked about twenty seven rushed to her side. Margaret was a friend of Avy’s from when she was training. “Avy, you landed wrong on your wrist. Can you move it?” Margaret asked as Avy lay still, staring at the ceiling. She didn’t want to move. She just wanted to give up. She had had a trainee for less than an hour and she was already a mess. Slowly she sat up and tried to roll her wrist around. She gritted her teeth when the pain emerged. Margaret began squeezing her hand and forearm, soon deciding that her wrist wasn’t broken, but definitely sprained. “You should go to the infirmary and get it wrapped.” Margaret said, “I’ll walk you down there just to make sure you go.”

“Thanks, Margaret.” Avy mumbled as she stood up. She walked with her friend to the elevator. “Can you believe this? I told Chief I didn’t need a partner. I got one and look what happened.” The girls laughed, but Avy partially meant it. As the elevator’s doors closed, she saw David pick up a grappling hook and stare at it for a moment before he started swinging it, like he had used it before.

“That was uncharacteristic of you, Avy. Why were you so distracted? You never would have let that happen if you had been on top of your game.” Margaret eyed Avy and she sighed as her shoulders sagged.

“It’s just stress, I think.” Avy lied. Margaret had no idea about Keagan, and she wouldn’t understand. “I might ask for a few days off after I’m done training Rookie.” Margaret nodded, satisfied with the answer.

“I used to love taking days off with Mark.” Mark was Margaret’s late husband. He had died a year ago, a mission had gone sour. “It would be good for you to take a break. You haven’t had one in a while.” Avy thought about Margaret’s loss. She didn’t want something like that to happen to her.

“I think I might.” Avy said. The conversation lulled for a moment.

“I’m sure Doctor Walters will be pleased to see you.” Margaret said as they left the elevator. “The star spy who’s never once been to the infirmary.” Avy laughed half-heartedly. She knew she could wrap the wrist herself perfectly fine, but arguing with Margaret was like arguing with a boulder. She would never budge. They walked into the room, which was mostly white. Doc Walters walked over to the two of them.

“Agent, I’m surprised to see you here.” He said as he grabbed Avy’s wrist. It had red marks from her holding it so tightly. “It looks sprained. Come over here and I’ll give you an x-ray.” Avy followed him to a machine and waited as it scanned her wrist. A few minutes later, the x-ray was developed. “It’s a severe Grade two. You’ll have to keep it in a brace or wrap it for the next six weeks. Which would you prefer?”

“I hate wearing a brace. Just wrap it.” Avy said. She sat on a bench while Doc Walters dug through the drawers under a counter.

“Which color do you want?” Doc teased. Avy laughed and rolled her eyes.

“I’m going to have another mission within the next six weeks. Make it black.” Doc began wrapping her wrist in black medical wrap. He finished up by clipping the edge to the bottom of the wrap.

“How are you so sure that you’ll have another mission?” Doc said.

Avy shrugged. “I just know I will.” She walked out of the office and down the hall. She walked into the brisk night. She walked down the street in the crowd. She enjoyed blending in with the regular people, and for a moment she wished she was one of them. She walked a few blocks, not minding the cold or the pain in her wrist. Down the street about three blocks was her apartment building. It looked run down, but inside it was nice. She walked into the lobby and made her way up the stairs. Three flights of stairs later, she arrived at her small apartment. She slid her key out of her pocket and slipped it in the lock. She turned the key a quarter of the way to the left, ¾ of a turn to the right and then all the way back around until it rested at the upright position. Her complex lock was something she had thought of when she got the apartment.

Avy opened the door and flipped on the lights. She flopped onto her black couch. Most of her furniture was black, with accents of hot pink and lime green. The gray walls were mostly bare, except for one picture. It was taken the week before Avy’s parents had died. Avy was standing in front of her parents, and holding Keagan’s hand. She studied it for a moment. Avy stood and pulled it off the wall. She stared at it as tears came to her eyes. Keagan. She hung it back up and wandered into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Nothing inside was worth eating. She flopped back onto the couch and lay there; face down until she fell asleep. She slept without dreams; it was simply black, empty, and cold.

She woke with a start when a knock on her door sounded. She ran her fingers through her hair and smoothed it down, letting it hang past her shoulders. She opened the door slowly.

“Hi, David.” She said. He smiled at her and she smiled back.