Prologue

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Note: oh my gosh wow I wrote this a long time ago and my writing has changed a lot. eh, anyways, hope you enjoy reading it (:

Prologue

It was raining outside. So hard that it sounded like the beat of a bass drum, thumping heavily in a rhythmic pattern against the beat up sidewalk, which was now dull and worn instead of glinting a million silver sparkles. The flickering of red and blue blinded my eyes as I still watched the window, perplexed and confused on why there were so many white cars circling our house wearing blaring sirens as hats. Why there were people dressed in such an official statement, some at the porch and some wandering around the flower gardens that mum had worked so hard on. Why the front door was opened, revealing a familiar shadow and kitchen light that was unwelcome to the cold streets of London.

But Mr. Collins, a kind man of my mother and father's friend, had told me to stay in my room, shut the door, and go to sleep. I was partly following his orders.

Parker wasn't though, as he stood at the inside of the door, face pressed up against the glass, leaving gray smudges imprinted accidentally He observed Mr. Collins talking to the strange people at the porch.

This went on for hours, and then I got tired of waiting for something to happen; and it felt like the ground was spinning underneath me, so I finally laid down and shut my eyes so tightly that it hurt. I tried so hard to go to sleep, so hard to just escape and drop everything. But there was a bit of curiosity still lingering in my mind. Where was Mum and Father?

I still ask the same question to myself, even if that was a mere 10 years ago. I still wake up with wonders of where they were, and where they are now, even if I already know the answer, I still keep doubting it.

Mr. Collins and Parker and I moved away from England, from all the good and bad memories that have a place in my head. That's when I found out that I wouldn't be attending a normal school, or have normal friends, or live a normal life.

It was overwhelming, but I got used to it, you could say. Maybe this life was better for me. Now I could live quietly and undercover, blending into crowds and keeping my head down.

But I managed it, and I kind of like this life better. Even if it meant not getting to be normal. But I find pulling normal off extremely harder than this.

I was never the social butterfly. Call me anything but that: Introvert, self-observer, the wallflower. Is it because of my DNA, my genes that I inherited from my parents? Or was it a coincidence, the latter? I don't know. I'm not a nerd when it comes to science.

But being the social and an outgoing extrovert is just easier. You get noticed in this big world, a world that can't stop talking.

I never had any fears, I guess. But the thought of being surrounded by a crowd, or when you have many people looking up to you, well that's scary. What if you let them down? What if you break a promise? Then what would you do? What would I do?

***
Book cover: picture credits to
Instagram @megggggsssss

Note: this is the new and improved rewritten version of what once was titled, 'To Be a Spy.' For those of you who have already read the old version, I do suggest rereading the book because it is much different. And to all my readers, I hope you enjoy reading Define Spy as much as I did rewriting it (:

Comment, vote, and fan!

~summer

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