The Red Room

"Izabella, please have a seat." Madame smiled sweetly at me and gestured to the chair in front of her desk which she was sitting behind. The smile seemed genuine, this had to be bad. I sat. "We have something very serious to discuss with you."

"Did I do something wrong?" I asked, instantly regretting it.

"Yes, you have just spoken out of turn, but because I don't feel like fetching another girl for this, you will be forgiven this time." I nodded at her words. "There was a recent death of a very bad women. She was an assassin that killed good people. She was selfish and rouge. We were very pleased to hear she is finally out of this world, but what we found troubling was that she had a son. He is seventeen, your age, and attends a high school in America. We are concerned that he will want to fulfill his mother's legacy and we need to keep and eye on him. We need you to go to his school, become friends with him, and confirm his innocence."

I was too stunned to speak for a moment, then I regained my mind, "Yes, Ma'am." Excitement flooded my chest. I was leaving the academy.

"Wonderful, I am sending a brown coat with you to act as your mother. You will leave at dawn tomorrow morning. For now, please return to your bed where you will find a folder full of things you will need to know about this person and how to be a regular high school student."

"Thank you, Madame." I left the room feeling more excited than ever. I was going to leave, take a break from the harshness of the Red Room. It was a definite honor to be a part of this, but it was exhausting to fight for your life each and every day.

When I returned to my bed that was lined up next to everyone else's beds, I did in fact find a folder. Inside was several facts about being a high school student. It showed me how to go about my day and education related things, but also social things that fascinated me. For example, I had to establish a "crush". This is when you are particularly fond of one person among your peers and wish a romantic relationship with them.

Mine would be the boy, his name was Morgan Park. He was, in fact, not bad looking. He had brown curly hair and green eyes. He seemed to have a history in physical activity. He was said to be the most "popular" boy in the school. He played almost all of the "cool guy" sports. Those consisted of football, basketball, and baseball. Things like golf, soccer and bowling were said to be nerd sports, even though they take the same amount of concentration and activity. Geez America was confusing.

Another social thing I had to master was the art of making friends. To connect with the most popular guy, I had to associate with the popular girls. This meant I had to smile and look pretty. I could do that. All of the girls at the academy were attractive.

Along with making friends I had to understand "sleepovers". This is where you trust a person enough to spend a whole night bunkered in their living space. Americans really are weird.

Also, I HAD to have at least one "social media". This is where you put all of the private information about yourself on a website for everyone to see so you could get "likes" and feel valuable. Of course we would not be putting ALL of my information on my social media. I had to have one of these or I would never be one of the popular girls. My goodness, these people.

I would be attending a school in a place called Ohio, in America. The city was called Kent, I would be attending Kent city schools.

After several hours of trying to memorize all of this American stuff a women in all brown walked in. "Hello, I am Amelia, I will be your mother." The women did look considerably like me. Sort of the same head shape, almost the same nose, and I was fairly certain I saw red hair under her brown hat.

I nodded towards her.

"I will be here to pick you up at dawn tomorrow morning, if you are not awake, we will not take you and we will just execute the boy."

I nodded again and she left.

Soon the rest of the girls flooded in properly, a proper flood of prestigious robots. (I was trying to practice sarcasm in my head). We all went to bed as the night time brown coat locked the door to the room. There were no windows, there was no escape. If there was even a muffled sneeze or a sniffle the girl would be dead in an instant. Trust me, it is not fun if you have to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, you have an itch, or you have the sniffles.

I did not sleep that night for fear I would not be awake when the brown coat came in the morning. I laid there awake all night, you know, until I accidentally fell asleep.

I woke to someone pushing on my shoulder. It was the brown coat that had come the night before. My eyes widened in panic, I had blown it, that was it, no more mission and no more real world.