The Test

Chapter One

"Brenda, would you get the mail please," my mother asks me, impatiently tapping her overgrown fingernails on our kitchen table. I put the book I'm reading on the couch and head to the door, bracing myself for the cold air I know is going to hit me second I step outside. I give myself a small moment, then open the front door, quickly scramble to get the mail from the mailbox, scurry back inside, and shut the door. "Sort them please." I hear my mom say from the kitchen.

Shuffling through the letters, I take out the first three, set aside the next two, and group the next one with the first three. The last one surprises me.

Brenda Abbatelli

Printed right on the front is my first name, big letters, just above my address. This is weird, I never get mail.

Mindlessly walking back into the kitchen, I keep staring at my letter as I hand my mother the other six. "Who's that one for?" She asks me.

I tell her it's for me, but before I can walk back to the livingroom she snatches it from my hands.

"Who in their right mind would send you mail?" My mother sneers at me.

"I don't know but it's mine. Can I have it back now, please?"

"Yeah, yeah, hang on. I'm your mother, I should get to see it anyway." She says as she tries to tear the flap. Only, it doesn't rip. "What the hell? It's like steel. Pointless if you ask me. I knew it would only be a joke. Not a very good one though." She flings the letter on the table and I grab it before retrieving my book and heading upstairs to my room.

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Sitting on my bed, I'm trying to figure out what my mother meant when she couldn't open it. I ripped it open without any problems. Inside, there is a single sheet of paper:

Brenda Abbatelli,

Congratulations! You have been specially chosen to take part in our research test, here at L.F.A Headquarters. No special knowlege or items are required for your particapation. Please arrive at 11:45am tomorrow morning, Sunday February 10th. The testing will begin at 12:00pm sharp. Don't be late. We can and will find you.

Have a nice day!

- The L.F.A Team.

That last part sounded threatening.

I toss the papers on the stack of books by the foot of my bed and lay on my back

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"Dude get up," I hear a voice say. Blinking rapidly and propping myself up on my elbows, I stare at Genevieve, my best friend.

"What time is it?" I ask, rubbing my eyes.

"3:00, aka the time we were supposed to go to the mall. Come on, get up, get up, get up. We don't have all day y'know," she replies, smacking her bubble gum between words.

"Ugggggghhhhhhhh," I groan and plop back on my bed, covering my face with my arms. "You know I didn't get much sleep last night."

"That doesn't give you the right to sleep in 'til 3:00 when you promised me you'd help me pick out a dress."

"I only went back to sleep like four hours ago," I try to reason.

"Do you think I care?"

"UGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH," I groan again.

"Brendaaaa," she whines, "get uuup."

"Fine." I slowly raise myself to a sitting position on my bed. Genevieve gives me a weird look and hands me my hairbrush from the shelf across the room.