Izabella has always been a mindless soldier of the Red Room. Her mind set consisted of following the rules as her top priority. Her only goal was to graduate the Red Room and become an assassin.
When she is given a mission she was surprised at how...
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ℙ𝔸ℝ𝕋 𝕋𝕎𝕆:
How can nostalgia be so awful and so amazing at the same time? It feels like something so sweet that it's sour, so warm that it's cold, so beautiful that it hurts my eyes. We followed Kira through the town as we nearly drowned in this oxymoron of a feeling. I wanted to go home so bad. Knowing I never could, I made the decision to try and make this town home.
Kira stopped at the large two story abandoned looking house that was far away from any other houses in the town. The paint was chipped, the windows were broken, and the door was pitch black. Until you got close enough it just looked like empty space.
"I know it looks rough but this is how we stay hidden. The house looks unlivable, so maybe people will assume no one lives here." She explained.
As we entered the house she yelled. "Everyone in the kitchen, now!"
The house was not too nice on the inside either, but it was considerably better than the outside.
Morgan and I stood at the doorway and looked around. Straight in front of us was a broken down staircase that lead straight up. To our left was an old flower print couch with a little brown coffee table in front of it. To our right was a kitchen area that had and old looking island in the center with six red bar stools around it. There was a counter surrounding the walls with an old sink, dishwasher, oven, and stove. They had added a small new looking microwave as well. The floor, walls, and ceiling were made of brown wood planks and there was a faded rug that matched the couch in front of the steps.
Little at a time five more people filed into the kitchen and stood on the opposite side of the island as us.
"Guys, I found these two wondering the woods. Iz here is an old friend of mine from the Red Room and this is her boyfriend Morgan." Kira said to the odd bunch of people.
One angry looking blonde girl glared at me and then at Kira. "Tara, a word please?" She jerked her head back at Kira and all six of them turned around and started whispering.
"Tara?" Morgan mouthed to me. I shrugged.
I tried to make out what they were saying. I only caught a few words at a time. The girl with blonde hair spoke the most. She kept saying words that didn't seem promising to me like, "No, absolutely not" and "We can't afford to".
Finally the group turned around and Kira spoke. "We've decided that you can stay with us." She gave a satisfactory smile. "But first, some introductions. I'm Tara, I told you my real name back in the woods, but here you must call me Tara. I'm 17 years old and a Red Room fugitive." She clarified. I nodded hesitantly.
I noticed she was wearing a light colored tie dye shirt with long sleeves and a little smily face where a breast pocket could be. She wore light wash jeans and vans that matched the tie dye print of her shirt. She had two guns tucked into her white belt. On her right was a pink gun and on her left was a purple gun. Her blonde ponytail was long and wavy and her light brown eyes looked as though they would sparkle in the sun. I thought her style seemed a little light weight for a Red room fugitive, but if I could reinvent myself, so could she.
