Anna Silver

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My body shifted as my truck's tire hit a large rock. The dirt road was was dark with dust as my tires disturbed the layout.

Grey storm clouds hung over the sky like a blanket, and I knew that there would be a fresh blanket of snow on the ground when I returned home.

I almost longed to turn the truck around, and blanket the horses and bring the cows in before the storm. But I knew it wasn't an option. I had to finish my degree, and a big exam was coming up, I couldn't afford to fail.

I had to prove to my parents that I was capable of doing things myself.

So I would work through the snow when I returned. But it didn't bother me, I was strong enough to do things myself.

I didn't know that I wouldn't be alone after that day, and if you ask me if I could have changed it,

I would say no.

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Bucky pulled the hood of the jacket closer to his face, as the wind was threatening to blow it off. The coat he had stolen helped stop the wind from reaching his bones. A black bag was slung over his real shoulder, as it contained his assassin's uniform and weapons.

He couldn't understand why he kept it, but he found himself not wanting to part with the peice of his past that he could at least remember a bit.

He was there for a reason, hunting down a girl named Anna Silver. She herself had helped with the part about him in the museum, and he knew there was more then that worn piece of glass told.

He was going to follow her, and force her to tell him everything. There was a small chance she didn't know who he really was, and he hoped to use it against her.

Washington state university. That's where she went every morning, and she left every day at one.

He had been studying her for awhile.

A roar of a truck engine was heard, and he watched as The cherry red pickup drove into the parking lot. He ducked even further into the shadow that the building was casting, as he lowered his head, not wanting to be seen.

That, if anything was something that he could do.

The gloves he wore stopped the gleam of his metal limb. He watched as she exited the vehicle, as she hugged her jacket around herself tightly. He swung a bright green backpack over her shoulder before locking the truck and trudging inside the building. 

A quick glance told him that there was no one insight, as he moved from the safety the shadows offered him. He felt so exposed, like a raw gun wound that was yet to be treated for infection.

He quietly made his way to the truck and his right hand dipped into the pocket of the jacket. He pulled out a pin shaped tracker, and thanked God that he had one left on his suit. He placed it under the tailgate. He felt the vibration of the tracker in his pocket and knew it was working.

Now all he could do is wait.

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"A C-!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands in the air, "But sir, I explained every aspect as to how the court itself worked!"

I had studied for weeks just to write this essay,  and yet here I was arguing with my professor about the grade I had received.

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