Young Writers Society

Chapter 2

SLAM! “Hey, boy, don’t break my car doors.” The policeman growls with his face curled up inanger. “I just got them fixed.” Still with the same expression on his face. “Oh, sorry Sir, guess i’m too strong.” “Yeah you are, like kicking that-a!” My fist gets a hard impact on my brothers head and he yelps. He glares back at me, then continues up the steps. “Goodbye.” The policeman exclaims from his car. We step into the apartment and Pike makes a beeline for the couch. I walk over to the kitchen to make me a drink. After I gulp down the inch of milk left in the jug, I decide to lay on the couch and read because Pike must have left to his room. Probably playing Kingdom Hearts or a Japanese import game. I don’t really care if we have a case tomorrow, I think i’ll just make an excuse to get out of it. We’ve been solving too many cases. Our case assigner is running out of stuff every day. Hell, we even prevent them too. He says we deserve bonus checks, but that'll never happen with the government barely hanging by a string. “I can’t wait for SNL.” PIKe moans out as he steps back to the living room. He goes to the kitchen, opens and closes a cabinet then goes back to his room. I’ll bet he just grabbed a Fiber One bar. I think in my head slowly about how Mr.Dell made his solid alibi. Bleh, I just want to read right now. I slip my shoes off with my heel of the other foot. As I lay on the couch, I think of how only two years ago the world wasn’t scared of much. We thought we were all safe, but now were in absolute terror. All because of him, Bayonet, the man that supposedly wants the world to have a much smaller population so we can have more money and supplies and all kinds of stuff. Or he’s just insane and wants to see mass death. He literally hacked worldwide TV and announced that this world was a kill or be killed kind of place. He said that we have to kill once a year or you will be assassinated by his workers, the people that give in to him. You have to be a freak or you’ve watched WAY too many horror movies. I plop down on the couch after grabbing a volume of Detective Conan from the bookshelf by the window. The impact from my weight shakes the blanket hanging on the top of the couch and it falls down on my stomach. I unfold it and tuck it under my shoulders, my ass, and my feet. Then I pull out my arms through a gap on each side of my body between my shoulders and the blanket. I start reading, but I can’t focus on the book. I bury my hands in my face and cry. That damned Bayonet…He killed my mother and father last year. They protected us and wouldn’t let us harm anyone…they were the people that took our place in our assassination. The people that took us to the zoo when we were kids, the people that helped us with homework, the family that cherished us…all gone. Bayonet let us live only to enjoy our suffering. “That fucking bastard.” I mutter to the dark. I get up and walk towards Pike’s room. I peek in and see him playing Kingdom Hearts on the 48” inch TV our parents got us for Christmas three years ago. He notices me and pauses the game. “Wanna watch?” I step in as an answer without a voice. I lay down on the bed and think to myself about how only a year ago we were invited to the WDA. It stands for Worldwide Detective Agency. I was 15 and Pike was 16 at the time. It feels like only moments ago when it happened. A week after our parents death they invited us to come and stay there. We declined staying there but accepted the offer of joining. We only live a half mile from the WDA in Kansas. I get a whiff of a stench I can’t even identify. “What in the world did you eat today!?” I back away into the corner staring at Pike in disbelief. He turns and looks at me with a heavy look of chagrin on his face. He shrugs his shoulders and I then roll my eyes. I hide under the covers and sleep with heavy breaths.