Only 10%

An espionage story centred on a girl named Jenna who can use more than the 10% of the brain that scientists say is all we can access. She therefore has certain abilities that make her coveted by certain underground organisations. Will she succumb to the seductions of The Bureau, or will she turn spy for the gornment?

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1. The Day I Died

It was a cold, dark winter’s night… No wait that sounds too clichéd, I’ll be more specific. It was actually the 28th of October, the day I died, and my eighteenth birthday party. I knew I was going to die, knew that it was inevitable. But I had been adamant that my parents and my older sister would never be there to see it. It was the last gift I could give to them, making sure that they weren’t there when it happened. But I couldn’t save everyone I cared about from witnessing my death, there had to be witnesses, and enough of them so that the evidence given would be irrefutable. Looking at all my friends together, knowing the reason that I had brought them all there, I had honestly never felt worse in my life. It happened at eight o‘clock. Huh, eight o’clock on my eighteenth birthday party, another cliché. Eight on the dot, when I got the phone call. ‘Hello?’ ‘I can see you.’ The voice sang at the other end, the tone making it even more sickening. I immediately threw my phone against the wall, resulting in it falling to pieces on the floor. All laughter in the room stopped, my guests realising that something was wrong. I couldn’t let them distract me from the plan; in fact I knew that I had to act like they weren’t even there at all. I moved swiftly towards the phone, the home phone, and dialled ‘999’ before entering a specific code that I had been given about three months before. I was put through to the police, and knew that I have to make my performance convincing. ‘It’s…..it’s Jenna. Please, he’s here again, he's found me, I…I think he’s going to hurt me this time. Please, all my friends are here, you have to do something!’ ‘Jenna, just calm down ok? I'm dispatching a patrol right now, and officer Burton is already in your area, he’ll be there in just a few minutes. Stay calm until he gets there.’ The line clicked off, and I felt the deep sense of dread set in. Officer Burton. Jack. Oh Jack, why did it have to be you? I had been certain that it was Brian or Kelly’s night to patrol the area; I had planned on him not being there. Coming away from the phone, I knew that I had no choice. I had to go through with it, put on a convincing show; at least with him there I’d feel my death more keenly. My friends were all looking at me as if I’d gone mad you couldn’t really blame them, I mean one minute I'm on the phone ordering pizza, and the next I'm on the phone to the police ordering an armed unit sent to my house. It even sounded crazy to me. I knew that they would have been listening in on my phone conversation, and so the act would be committed much sooner. I quickly reeled off the practised excuse that I knew off by heart. I had to know it off by heart. ‘I'm so sorry you guys, I should never have brought you all here. I should have realised that he’d attack today.’ ‘Attack? Jenna, what are you talking about?’ ‘I’ve been stalked ever since I came back from America two years ago. He followed me here and wouldn’t leave me alone. I’ve been in contact with the police ever since, but we haven’t been able to catch him. He's been quiet for a while now, and I thought he had given up, I should’ve known that he was only biding his time.’ Suddenly one of the girls, I think it was Becky, screamed as she looked behind me. Whipping round, I saw him. The grotesque mask covering his face, long black trench coat, black plastic gloves, and silver shot gun. The tip only centimetres away from the glass of our back garden doors, the bullet penetrated it easily. He shot me, at waist level. A miniscule moment of surprise flittered across my face. I hadn’t expected him to shoot me there, but I guess it made sense when you think about what they wanted me for. Falling backwards, I saw my attacker sprint off into the ally at the back of my house. My friends screamed. My close friends scrambled to call an ambulance, whilst also running to the front door, of which the bell had just rung, rather urgently. But my best friends were the ones who ran to me. They grabbed my face, hands, tried to staunch the flow of blood. They called out to me, telling me to stay with them, to hold on. But their shouts became whispers, their touches insubstantial. I couldn’t hold on, because there was nothing for me to hold on to. That is, until I heard another voice, a rougher voice, call my name. I felt the vibrations of heavy footfalls making their way towards where I lay on my kitchen floor, and then a pair of strong, warm arms pulling me into his chest. ‘Jack.’ My voice came out as a breathless whisper, as that was all I could manage right then. Not that it made much of a difference, I tended to sound breathless whenever I was around him, but we both knew that this was for an entirely different reason. I also knew that James would never like the idea that somebody else had stolen my breath. It may be selfish, and I know that I should have wished with everything I had left for him to be somewhere very far away at that moment, but I couldn’t muster up the courage to push him away, to stop him from hurting. I was glad that he would be the last part of this life that I saw. With my last vestiges of strength, I lifted my arm and brought it to his neck. I brought his face down to mine, stopping when his lips were just hovering over mine. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t let our first kiss happen under such circumstances, and I didn’t want to kiss him, knowing that I would never be able to do it again. Instead, I just whispered in his ear before allowing my breath to escape me. I was ebbing away, and I had to hope that he had heard what I had said to him, otherwise all this would have been for nothing, and I wouldn’t have anything to tie me to this world anymore. I couldn’t hold off for any longer, I knew that they were waiting (and growing impatient), so I let my last breath escape into the atmosphere, as my hand grew slack and my head slumped against James’ chest, the life finally frozen out of me. I’ve been told that in the moments after my death, there was a lot of screaming, shouting and frantic attempts to revive me. The ambulance arrived, apparently, but by the time they got me to the hospital, I was well and truly cold. My friends, my witnesses, had been called upon to give evidence. They all said that they had seen a masked assassin shoot me through the window, that apparently he had been stalking me for the last two years. The police, Jack, would verify that statement. My parents would view my body a few hours later and confirm that it was I, Jenna Masterson, and that I was their daughter. That name and title was what they inscribed on my headstone. Everything had been thoroughly planned out; and there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that I was dead. There couldn’t be, because that way; no one would suspect the truth. That I was alive. Alive, and so much more .

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