Samantha's Story

Samantha's Story

  • Submitted By: gloria785
  • Date Submitted: 08/14/2011 12:36 PM
  • Category: English
  • Words: 693
  • Page: 3
  • Views: 294

I don’t know much about life. I’m not allowed to, with having my dad be a secret agent and all. I wasn’t allowed to go to school, to go out by myself, or have any cyber connections with anyone. You understand that this could be hard for a fifteen year old, right? I had no friends, no social life, nada. I hated this with a passion. I resented this. Because of my parents, I had to be antisocial.
It wasn’t all that bad, really. I was taught jiu jitsu , karate, yoga, martial arts; an endless supply of self defense. I know how to speak German, Italian, French, Spanish, English of course, Russian, and Latin. If you were to attack me, you’d end up in the hospital. Chuck Norris taught me to do the roundhouse kick. He’s my mentor.
I had everything material I could ever ask for. Shoes, clothes, and the latest gadgets; I had the 5g iphone. Many of my earrings had some sort of secret weapon or camera, or different things like that. Yes, I went on missions too. But the most recent one, Wow.
Ugh, I hate homework! I thought to myself as I finished my trigonometry worksheet. I went downstairs, only to see that my mother was still not home. How surprising. NOT. I decided to get some cereal. I look in the pantry, and all I could come up with are bran cereals and corn flakes. I get that I need to be in shape and all, but c’mon, im a 5’2 90 pound girl. I’m not going to be out of shape if I have froot loops at least once a week. Just once a week is all I ask for. Is it so much to ask? Luckily, I knew the drill. So I ran back upstairs, took off the paining on my wall to reveal my secret compartment, which by the way had plenty of food to be able to last for at least 1 year. I grabbed a box of trix and made my way back downstairs.
As I was serving my cereal, a funny feeling came across me. I felt watched, and I’m never wrong about these things. In fact it’s the thing I’m best at. I don’t want this to sound weird or anything, but I can even sense someone talking about me, or...

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