I'm leaving this journal behind for a while. Aunt Rogue says we have to hide in the underground barracks for a while until the Chess Pieces (an elite group of killers my sister got mixed up with, and won't stop hunting us) are completely dead.
If I die, please do me a favor, and burry this book with me (if there's anything left of me.) I've been writing it since I was seven.
I knew I was running out of pages anyway.
I write what is probably the last entry in my life long companion, and put it in the special place under my bed. If I can't have it by my side, I want it as close as possible.
**TWO HOURS LATER**
Mom and Dad get back as quick as possible, after Aunt told them everything about Queenie. Mom runs and hugs everyone, who are now all back. My younger triplets have no idea what's going on. Aunt just tells them we are going to live downstairs for a while. At least we will have the training facility down there. The walls are sound proof, so that's a plus.
"We have plenty of supplies down there." Mom reassures, stopping to talk to the other adults in the living room. I retreat back to my room, as well as the others. I pack a backpack with my wand, which I never used, a brush, and some extra clothes. A black tank top, my special knife leggings, my belt, an extra pair of black combat boots, almost identical to the dark brown ones I have on now, another pair of black leggings, and my leather jacket.
Walking back out, I over hear Queenie talking to Aunt Rogue. I don't mean to listen, but it's what I have to do in order to get around in this house. If I hadn't listen to their last conversation, I'd be as clueless as the younger ones.
"As for us, you and I are going Chess Piece hunting." I jump from the corner and run up to Aunt Rogue.
"I wanna come!" I plead with words and my eyes. She looks hesitant, then flatly gives an answer.
"Oh, Kenny. I can't have too many associates. I just need Queenie to point important thing out to me. Maybe next time." She walks out of the room before I can beg any more. I look at Queenie. She shrugs and goes to get ready for tonight.
No matter, I've always been known to break the rules.
"Come on guys!" Dad calls from the kitchen, readying to comfort a house full of crying girls. I'm not the crying type, I'm more of a 'go-throw-knives-at-my-problems' person.
Everyone files downstairs, holding tight to their backpacks. Queenie has changed into leather, skin-tight black leggings, thigh-high black combat boots, a belt full of knives and a gun in there somewhere. Her black tank top is tucked inside it, with a black sports jacket over it. I look over her poised body, ready to attack. A sheet of sweat covers her face. She doesn't show her fear.
"Let's go." Mom announces, taking Dad's outstretched hand. They lead us to the basement. Swallow my pride and follow them.
As soon as we get there I go to the only bathroom and change. Aunt told Queenie they'd be leaving around dark. It's dusk now. I'll tell them I'm going in the separate room to train.
I pull on my knife leggings, a black tank, my leather jacket, and black combat boots. My brown one's are easier to train in, but these make less noise when I walk. No noise at all actually. My dark hair goes up in a tight high pony tail, and I add a little black makeup to my eyes to make them seem less noticeable. The last thing I add is my fingerless leather knife gloves.
I walk carefully out of the bathroom. Saffron is there, waiting. I jump, but calm myself down quickly.
"Where you going?" She asks, not really caring.
"Training." I answer coldly and walk back to the training center.
"I'm training! Don't come in unless you want to get shot!" I scream to the other room. Zoe answers back with an okay, and I get to work.
I put ten knives in all in my belt, three more on each of my legs, and hide one under the soul of my boot just in case. I sling a quivver with ten arrows over my shoulder and grab my smallest bow off the wall. Hiding inside the training center walls, I wait for Aunt and Queenie to leave.
Within five minutes, I'm following them down the alley. They make small talk, trying to calm each other down. My brain tells me go back, but I go against it, still following them.
We walk for an hour before coming to a place that Queenie recognizes as the "Chess Pieces house." Still, nobody notices me. I carefully slip inside, about ten yards from Aunt's back. I draw a knife from my leggings and take a deep breath.
"Ah, what a surprise seeing you here." A man's voice says from inside a concrete room. Aunt waits outside, sending Queenie in to distract them. I don't hear the rest of their conversation before Aunt Rogue takes a hand gun from her belt and runs inside the room. Fire opens. I stay where I am frozen. When the fire stops, I carefully creep toward the door to the room. Aunt and Queenie are still alive, as well as the ten other people with bows and arrows wearing black robes.