My oneshot. D:
Hope you like it.

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I remember how it all happened. Why I am so happy now. But I'm not. I've been living a lie. Sort of.

But I remember what happened. Thats how I was brought back into reality.

Its all because I remember.

--

I was a 1st grader, clumsy, forgetful, and easily bribed when I began. Everyday, my parents, Mimiko and Jonathon, would come and drop me off at school. Everyday, Pete Wentz and Ashlee Simpson would pick me up, unnoticed by other people. Everyday, I was brought to a large studio, much like a ballet studio.

The smell of the room would rush up to me. Plastic foam and metal bars awaited me. Everyday, Ashlee would go into another room, with a two-way mirror, with Pete. Everyday, I was given a dummy. Everyday, I had to go into the closet and choose. I usually picked a small dagger. Thats right. They trained me to become an assasin.

I remember. I was a 4th grader, and I was lean and extrememly athletic, due to years of training.

The dummy stared at me, mocking me, smirking. I glared at the dummy, and it began to move. It lunged at me, attempting to kick me. I deftly dodge its clumsy attack, and I take my dagger out and I frontflip and I land behind it. I take the dagger and plunge it into the back of its neck, thus killing it. The dummy shortcircuited and fell down.

Taking my dagger out, I walk back over to the closet and I carefully put it back into its place. I eye the katana, and wish to hold it. How many times had I lifted it? How many times had I failed to kill with it? I sighed, and I walked away, slamming the closet shut.

Pete walks out of the room, and signals for me to come over to him. I bounce on the foamy floor, and I sigh.

"Thats too slow. He," Pete said, pointing to the dummy, "Should have been dead in at least 30 seconds. You took a few seconds longer than you should have. He might've screamed or dialed 911. AGAIN." Pete glowered at me. Rolling my eyes, I walk back over to the closet.

Looking back at my arsonal of weapons, I decide to try the katana, and I take the sheath with me as well. Tying the katana and its sheath to my waist, I sneak up to the dummy. Pulling out my katana, I smirked. I quickly grasp the dummy's hair, and I step back to avoid cutting myself, and I slice its head off. Shuddering, I toss the head and put the katana back in its sheath. Smirking to Pete, I walk over to him.

"Good. You need some more training in other areas now. You will attend weapon handling classes, Martial arts lessons, and you better be a black belt in ALL of them, and also, stealth and spy lessons. You have 3 more years until your first job. If you cannot do everything, then you will be the one eliminated," Pete said, coldly. I shivered and I started shaking. Taking a deep breath, I regained my composure and I nodded curtly.

Everyday, I had someone do my homework for me. I had no time for that. Pete always called a cab to pick me up, and I slept on the way back home. ALWAYS. I cried that night. It hurt too much. I had to train for so long. I didn't even know why. PLUS I had to keep that a secret.

Sometimes, my dad would come up to my room when I'm sad and play some of his favorite songs on the guitar. Other nights, my dad's friends would come over and hang around, being stupid, or just playing stuff together. Sometimes, when they're all over here, they would come up and play something for me. But other days, it would be lonely, because my dad would go on business trips for months with his friends. Those days, I cried harder, and slept more.

My dad came up to my room that night. He played me a song and I was falling asleep. I didn't really hear much except : "Summer; All was golden in the sky, All was golden when the day met the night." It made me want everything normal. I wanted to be fat and lazy and actually do my own homework. I wanted to go to other people's houses and do stuff. I cried everyday over the loss of my own childhood.

Those 3 years passed in a rush, and I grew taller and skinnier, less noticable. My long black hair blended in with shadows, and I learned to walk silently. I could handle all weapons, especially the swords. I was a samurai, a ninja, whatever you wanted to call me. It helped that my ancestors, from my mother's side, were assasins, ninjas, and like I said, what ever you wanted to call them. They were masters of stealth.

Pete Wentz had brought me to the dojo all these years, and finally, he said to me, "You are ready. I have to train my little ones now. But now, you are finally ready for your first mission. Your mission, is to kill the former members of the band Panic At The Disco. For too long, my former band, Fall Out Boy, has been compared to them, and we were the ones who changed. We were the bad ones. I signed them. I was there for them. It was ME who helped them become who they are, yet they now gone. They used to be big, and they gave it up. They got married, and had kids. They are the ones who left all the fame and glory for family. I WARNED THEM NOT TO. Its all their-," Pete spat, and started mumbling to himself. Not until later, which was like, five minutes later, he stopped. "I want you to kill them, and bring their corpses to me. NO WAIT. I have a better idea. Bring them knocked out or badly injured, BUT THEIR BODY INTACT. They HAVE to be somewhat healthy. I need them. ALL FOUR OF THEM. stupidfuckinbrendon," Pete screamed.

I slightly panicked. My dad had four friends, and one of their name's were Brendon. I heard him sing in the living room, and he had an addicting voice. I took a deep breath and told myself it probably wasn't them. Pete opened his mouth to speak again. His face was red with anger already. "Kill Brendon Urie. Kill Ryan Ross. Kill Spencer Smith. Kill JONATHON WALKER. Yeah, thats right. KILL YOUR FATHER, or be KILLED BY ME," He screamed, and his eye twitched. He walked over to me and whispered, "You better not chicken out, Jennifer."

I shuddered, and a tear rolled down my cheek. I made a slight movement with my head and I moved my side bangs over the tear, and I kept a calm, neutral face. I stared at Pete, concealing any emotion I was feeling. I bit my lip, though, and I walked out of the room. Pete just stood there, going mad.

I collapsed on an alley and I let my tears stream out, wetting my shirt. I heard footsteps, and I instinctively stopped moving and made sure I was hidden. I still let my tears fall down, as I can't stop it. The footsteps drew closer, and it made a little click-clack noise that somehow is beautiful. I shuddered, as a wind blew violently in the alley.

"Jenny? Is that you?" A soft familiar male voice echoed in the alley. My head perked up immediantly. I tried to remember the voice and the person came closer. As he drew closer, I remembered. It's William. Bill Ross. The son of Ryan, one of my dad's close friends. I knew him since forever and knew that I shouldn't look like I have serious problems. I stifle a sob, and I try to regain my composure.

William "Bill" Ross was 13 year old and he was extremely smart. Just ONE year older than me. He was about 5'7" and he had soft brown hair, and by soft, I mean SOFT. He had honey brown eyes and looked extrememly childish at times. He was also pale, and it just made him look even younger. Several girls always talked about how adorable and cute he is. They also called me lucky for always hanging out with him, which was a big lie, seeing how I have to go to the dojo everyday. Some even say he looks EXACTLY like his father, which is amazing, seeing how I see everyone individually and not see anyone that looks EXACTLY like another, EVEN TWINS.

"B-Bill? What are y-you doing h-here?" I stuttered, hoping that he doesn't realize that I've been crying.

"Jenny? It IS you. Aren't you cold?" He worried. His face was scrunched up and he was frowning, clearly concerned.

I shrugged. I stand up from my little spot on the floor and I realize, he's still taller than me. I've always tried to get taller than him. It never worked. I always tried to beat him in everything. I had challenged him so many times that I lost count and that amount was equal to the times I lost to him.

"You've been crying," he frowned, and his brow wrinkled. The way he said it made me guilty, and even more sad. He also said it like a statement. He knew me too well.

"Tell me what happenend. Tell me everything," He said, clearly stressed over the fact that I had been crying in the cold alley. He took off his jacket and put it on me. I knew better than to resist, and I pulled the jacket tighter. I sighed, and I started rambling on and on about what was going on.

".. And he TOLD me to BRING THEM BACK TO HIM. So he can conduct some SICK EXPERIMENTS," I shrieked, tears freely flowing like a waterfall down my pale cheek.

Bill was thinking and he started hugging me. I didn't care, so I let him. I just cried into his shoulder. He rubbed my back and pulled me closer to him, tighter. Then he blurted out, "I've GOT IT."

Pulling back, I wipe some tears away and say, "W-What?" I stutter. He smiled at me and I felt my cheeks heat up. Biting my lip, I ask him again, "W-What do you mean, y-you got it?"

Smiling again, he says, "We can just bring them there, consiously, and they can go beat up Pete themselves!" I frowned. I turn and put my back to him. I look at the floor, not concentrating on anything particular.

"Pete is a master assasin. They can't possibly beat him up alone. Nobody... nobody is really better at assasinating than..." I trailed off. I just continued staring at the hard cement sidewalk. Several cars zoomed by before Bill talked.

"The only one better at assasinating people is you... Right?" He whispered. I turned and I look into his eyes. His eyes are full of fear and I drowned in his pool of pain, which was created by me. I know I did. Looking away, I nod numbly.

"Then you have to kill him," he continues whispering. "Right?" He was obviously shocked as well, and upset.

"Yeah, I suppose so," I murmured, and a tear rolled down my cheek. It fell and hit the dusty cement floor.

------

I barged into the house, my mind made up on what I wanted to do. I saw my dad and his friends around the couch, singing and laughing. Bill quickly walked in after me, and I immediantly handcuffed my dad and Bill's dad.

"What the f- ," Brendon screamed. "What's wrong with you, Jenny?" My dad's hair was sweaty and messy, and I wrinkled my nose in disgust. I didn't answer his screams, as I put the handcuffs on Ryan. His face was so confused and he opened his mouth to say something, but I shoved a sock into it. Literally.

"JENNY. What in the WORLD are you DOING?!?" Jon managed to scream. I didn't answer and I quickly put my father and Ryan to sleep. Bill pulled out potato sacks and we stuck the men into them, heaving them into the white van.

Pete had given me a fake license to drive, and everything else I would have needed to drive the car with. Also, it had a secret supply of weapons. Bill hopped onto the van and shut the back doors. I revved up the car and sped off.

I casually drive through the streets and I whistle a tune. Bill comes up to me and whispers in my ear, "Can I drive? I know how to." Nodding, while still whistling, I pull over and we switch spots. I walk in the back of the van and start picking some weapons out. Looking in the whole closetful of weapons, I decide to use my traditional dagger, and I also take out a katana as well. Then I decide to also pick up another dagger, and then I take some ninja stars, just for the fun of it.

I stick the two daggars on my sides (with the sheath of course), and the katana goes on my back. I stick the ninja stars in a little black pouch on the back part of my pants, and I slam the closet shut. Walking over to another closet, I take out some armor I was SURE I needed. I quickly buckled it all on, and I put a sweater over it. I looked normal.

Soon, we were there.

Pete was smirking and waiting for his "delivery". I groaned internally and I got out of the van, dragging the bodies. I saw a metal glint on Pete's left hip.

The battle had begun.

He advanced towards me. I kept a calm face and I stood my ground.

"Good job, Jennifer. You will be rewarded."

"When?"

"Now," He pulled out his knife and attempted to stab me. With my reflexes, I stopped his arm, and flipped him over.

Groaning, and muttering to himself, he got back up on his feet and tried again. I pulled out my two daggers, kicked him to the floor, and I pinned him down with the daggars.

Pete's eyes were wild and ferocious, balls of burning hate, and he started spewing out curses. I turned my head slightly, so I could see Bill, and he was frightened. Pete took advantage of this to try to struggle out. He tore his shirt, and managed to cut himself, but he was free once more.

Wide-eyed, I reach for my katana, securing my grip on it. I pulled it out of its sheath the moment Pete charged towards me. Feeling power once more, I swallow some air, and I front flip, so I landed behind him. I hold the katana against his throat. I glowered at him, as he turned his head to face me and he growled.

"Is THIS my award?" I muttered to him, with a hint of anger.

Pete started laughing crazily. "No, the reward has already been given to you. Look in the potato sacks."

Letting go of Pete, I rushed to the sacks, and they were drenched in blood. I looked around for the murderer, but I only found Bill. Covered in blood. With my daggar.

My vision faltered for a minute, and I was plunged into darkness.

The next thing I remember is that . . .

Bill is looking at me. He looked very different. Bill is now taller, more ... the word escapes my mind. I am in a white room. It smells like a hospital. I slowly blink at him.

"So you're finally awake?" He smirks.

"Well, what do you MEAN by FINALLY awake?" I leer at him. I'm disgusted at what he did. I try to remember WHY I was mad at him. I don't remember. A tear rolls down my cheek.

"Don't cry. You've been in coma for 3 years now. Alot of things happened," He gently explains.

"Where are my parents?!?" I shriek. My heart races faster and I frantically look around the room.

"They... died. In a car crash," He whispered, looking down. "They died while they were going to the hospital."

"They were coming to see me when they died?" I asked, biting my lip, and several tears run down my cheek.

"No... Your mother was in labor. She was having your little brother, Brendon," He whispers. Just then, a little toddler stumbled in. He had pale skin, and black hair. It was messy, and he had sweet brown eyes. He was wearing cute overalls, and he had a red shirt underneath. He waves to me.

I grin at him. "I'm guessing thats Brendon, right?" Bill sighs in relief.

"I am Brendon. I am twee year old. You my sister, yeah?" Brendon giggles. He puts up three fingers to show how old he is.

"Yes, I am your sister. My name is Jenny," I laugh. He runs over to me and he hugs me. I hug back and feel so happy.

I look up at Bill and ask him, "Who's our guardians?"

"Jon and Meredith," He smirks. "Brendon knows them as his parents. Sort of. We're not too sure, but he knows the people in the picture are his real parents. Isn't he smart?"

Just then, Jon and Meredith come in. Jon had an easy smile and rushes over to hug me. Meredith plays with Brendon.

"When can I leave?" I ask the nurse which I JUST realized was standing in a corner.

"You can leave today," She sighs.

"YUSHHH," I scream happily.

-------

By then... I was happily living. But not really.

I said I have been living a lie, right?

It's because I'm not really living.
.
. .
. . .
. . . .
. . . . .
. . . . . . I never said I was alive.
. . . . .
. . . .
. . .
. .
.
I died when I saw Bill do the one thing I could NEVER DO.

Lurvvvvve lurve lurvwe it!

frick on a stick.....
so...she died and the hospital was heaven?!?!?!? thats awesome!!! ONESHOT WIN

XD

^ ^

GLAD YOU LIKED IT(:

not quite the one you showed me, but i like it.

and wow...you have a dark mind, girl!

YUP. I WROTE ANOTHER AND YEAH... O__O;;

Awesome :]