Dedicated to my lovely friend for supporting me and my story and also for being a very good friend♡

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Clarissa

"GOAL!!" and once again I put my hands over my ears and laugh at how silly Kevin and Dad were when it came to foot ball.

"If you shout one more time I am going to break the plug of this damn television." She announced. Mom hated loud noises.

Again I saw Kevin give a secret thumbs up to dad. Oh they never stop.

I rolled my eyes and got up to go to my room. This was what always happened at my home when there was a sports match on the TV. Be it badminton, cricket, football, or baseball. More specifically football. All both of them need was a reason to annoy mom.

I chuckled again when I heared both of them shriek out loud once again.

I went to my room and opened my drawer to retrieve the thing which was haunting me from yesterday.

The ring.

I don't touch the ring with my fingers. Instead I take a handkerchief and pick it up with the cloth.
I don't know why but I really did not want my finger prints to be on it.

I know I am acting all freaky, but....I just felt it.

I call out to mom to come in the living room and then placed the ring wrapped in the handkerchief in the centre of the table. Dad and Kevin's smile dropped turning into a frown. Same happened with mom.

"What is it sweety? And what is this?"

I gulped hard. I had to ask it. I opened the the loose knot of the handkerchief I made and there lay in all of its glory, the tattered and worn out ring of my grandmother.

Mom's face registered the shock. Almost instantaneously her eyes widened. She glanced at her ring, which was a better and newer version of my grandmother's ring, and peeked back at the ring on the handkerchief. Confusion etched over dad's face too.

"Don't ask me about hows and whens and wheres. The matter at hand is that I have this ring. Who gave it to me doesn't matter. Yet. But I want to know everything. Every detail." I paused and waited for them to enlighten me.

Dad took a deep sigh and rubbed his face with his palms. "I thought it will not happen again. I thought I saved you. I thought I-I....."

Mom sat next to him and started rubbing his back. Then she muttered.

      "It has been more than a decade Claire. You were a kid whe-when grandma died. But it was not a natural death dear. She had been killed.

      "Your grandmother possessed a gene in her. It had a name but I don't remember it. She was contacted by an organisation, named Tundra. They said that she could help the human race in a huge way.

      "Its not that she was the only one who was special, there were others. Others with....different abilities. She agreed to the programme and signed some sort of contract. That contract cost her her life.

      "They betrayed her Claire, they betrayed her. They made her sign in the name of humanity and...and did something much more inhuman.."

She choked on her last words and then started sobbing. It was too much for me to process. I faintly recall mourning my grandmother's death but I never tried to unveil the bitter truth behind it.

A contract.

The guy who explained me about my genes did say about some contract.

"Now tell me dear, where did you get the ring from?" Inquired dad after wiping his tears.

Oh god. What do I say? Making up a story about an ancient ring will turn into a mess.

"Dad...I-I.....," I took a deep breath, "It was given to me. Not in a simple way of course, but yeah it was kind of handed to me."

"If this thing is genetic, do you think even I am.....you know.....having this?"
We all were startled when we heard a mumble from Kevin.

In the mess to save myself, I never thought even he could be a target.

"I-I w-we....we don't know." Even my own voice sounded strangely unfamiliar to me.

I hope he doesn't have it, but what would futile phrases like 'don't worry' and 'it will be okay' do?

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

So presumably for now, we all agreed to keep mum, not knowing what is in store for us.

_____

"I don't care if you run out of your pocket money. You may steal, borrow or beg but I want you at the funfair buying my donuts!"

I once again roll my eyes at the way she advertises her stall at the funfair.
This was the fifth time she told me about her donuts.

"Yeah alright I get your point Suzy. And by the way it is beg, borrow, steal. Not the other way round. And nobody makes donuts as good as you do. Not even the old lady down the streets." I wink at her.

She flops her hair to the other side in a dramatic way and I roll my eyes at that.

I take the books out of my bag and turn to open my locker when I hear Laura shriek my name and run into me.

"Tell me you are coming to the fair tomorrow." She panted and placed her hands on her knees.

"Yes I am coming tomorrow and why did you have to run for that?" I enquired.

"Because I have some hot news to be shared." She wiggled her eyebrows.

Suzy was very quick to rush towards Laura to hear the hot news.

"Na-ah. Not now. Let it be a complete secret. I am not going to ruin it."

"Then why did you just come here and turned us all curious to listen to what it is?!" Exclaimed Suzy.

"Don't you people know me? Like seriously you think I would not build suspense?" She asked raising an eyebrow.

Suzy and I shared a look and sighed in defeat.

Suzy turned away to get some of her belongings from her locker while Laura was still with me. I opened my locker and put my head down in my bag to get the books out when I heard Laura.

"Who kept that? Is it a love letter?" She starts smiling cheekily and looking at me with her eyebrows up.

Is it? I really doubt that but it doesn't do harm in expecting it.

Suzanne was by my side in a split second. I opened the note with a smile on my face but it turns out it wasn't supposed to stay any longer.

It was a clear white paper, tore haphazardly, with something scribbled on it. I took a closer look.

Mr.D
At 11

I knew very well what Mr.D stood for.

Deamonne.

There was something else scrawled next to the 11, but it was not distinguishable.
Actually, it was not complete. Whoever wrote it, scribbled it in a hurry and left it incomplete. It was just a vertical line.

There could be many letters starting with a line. It could be an l or a t or an h.

For a moment I forget that there were my two friends with me, standing by my side.

Laura had a look of curiousness plastered on her face while Suzy's face was dripping with worry and concern.

"Is there something you are not telling us Claire?" Laura caught hold of my arm and turned me a bit towards her, with eyes stern and demanding.

I wanted to be honest. I surely did. But somethings are better behind the curtain. Or that's what I think.

"I-I c-can't." Taking a deep breath I tried to continue.

"I am not yet ready to tell it. Yes there is something, something dangerous. I want you people to stay away from this mess. As far as possible. Try and understand."

Laura let go of my arm and sighed, while Suzy just nodded. I really did expect them to prod more for answers but seems they kind of understood.

Odd. But better.

"So you are coming to the fair, aren't you?" Suzy nervously fiddled with the hem of her shirt. She was so excited for this day and now this stupid doodle on a scrap of paper is making her doubt about me visiting the fair.

"Ofcourse I am coming! I would not miss your doughnuts, would I?"

A slow but genuinely glowing smile appeared on her face.

And at that very moment I knew what contains real happiness.

_____

Getting up from a blissful nap just because you are thirsty should be listed in top most annoying things in the world.

I sit up on my bed, plop down again, groan in frustration and then finally get down stairs to fetch a glass of water.

I really wanted orange juice but I know its not in the fridge.

Ha. Good for me tomorrow in the fair I will get any juice.
Where was Suzy's stall by the way?

Oh yes next to the pass check in counter.
The pass!

I quickly gulp down rest of the water in my glass and sprint upstairs.
It was in the maths book--the maths book--where is it--

I did not find the pass, but a scrap of paper dropped from one of the books.

The same scrap of paper which snatched the mirth off our faces.

I had no idea what the 11 meant.

Tomorrow's date wasn't 11.
I am not 11 years old.
Nobody else's birthday was on 11.
Not even mine.
11 was not present in any of the addresses I am related to.

I really had no clue about it.

"Clarissa!" Mother's voice boomed in the hallway. "Come down for dinner."

Did I sleep that long?

I put the scrap back into the book and strutted down the stairs.

"You still want to watch cartoons at this age?" I raised an eyebrow at Kevin with a hand on my hip.

He shrugged. "As if you left savouring Cerelac after completing half of your teenage."

"That is different!" I hit him with the spoon next to me.

"Ow!" He ranted while rubbing his arms.

"Get it over now kids. And Kevin stop with the cartoons and give me the remote."

With a frown and twist of his mouth he passes the remote to dad earning a glare from him.

"Buy two and ge--dreams shall com--would you wa--darkest colour to las--is reported to be below 20° an--murder has been reported at--will be back--"

As dad was scrolling through all the channels, mom interfered.

"N-no David. Just go back on the news chanel you scrolled through previously, will you?"

When my senses actually focused on what the TV screen was displaying, a tremor ran through my body.

The first current to run through my body was recognition.

Recognition of the person who was currently no more.

Because he was murdered.

The second emotion which enveloped me was shock.

Shock that a person who was ready to kill, was actually killed.

And the third sensation that washed over me was relief.

Relief because I was looking at a bullet hole in the head of the same person who fired a bullet in a busy market.

The same person who handed me my grandmother's ring.

The same person who I believe worked for Mr. Deamonne.

I was a little skeptical about him being the guy I was thinking of because the time he forcefully met me, he had a cloth on his face.

But he had an oblique scar above his right eyebrow and so did this victim on the TV screen.

The voice of the frail and thin TV reporter in a short hair cut boomed through the speaker.

"Witnesses claim that he was also seen before in the west market shoot. According to them he was the one to fire in the air. He had a mask on but some people upclose to him gave the statement. In th--"

That was it. It was him without any doubt.

There was this one sensation I couldn't put my finger on. Some kind of...satisfaction after his death? It was weird but it was there.

So if he worked for that Deamonne, it is pointless that he would murder his own man.

If you go to the data perspective,
He threatened me.
Because he knew about me,
He followed me, that means he knows where I live, where I go.

He was actually the person who had all the information about me. Maybe he is the only one.

So killing him results in destroying the data. My data.

That means...some one wants to keep me away from the eyes of Mr. Deamonne.

Or maybe that's what my conclusion is.

There could always be me more to it.

________

If you want me to make you a cover for your book, just message me.

Aaahhhhh sorry once again for the delay.
I have my boards (hsc) year going on and I really can't seem to get inspiration to write due to this freaky tension.

I am so sorry. I promise that the vacation will have more uploads than you can imagine.

Love you all my beautiful readers♡♡