The Storm (Part Two)

By Clara.

This story is a continuation of the Storm part one. I recommend reading The Storm part one before reading The Storm part two. To do so click on this link: here



She sat herself down and began to write her letter. As she started to form the first letters on the page, she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. She quickly hid the letter in one of her drawers and started to clean.

As her father entered her room, she looked up.

“Hi dad,” Kirsten said with a fake grin.

“How is the cleaning going?”he said in a cheery voice.

“It’s okay, not so fun though.”

“Well I didn’t expect it to be fun.”

“See you then,”  he said in an annoyingly cheery voice.

“Okay, see you.”

As soon as he was gone, she went straight back to writing that letter.

This is what she wrote:

Dear 401,

I have always wanted to be a spy and I would really love to join the BND, but how do I know that you aren’t a kidnapper or a murderer? You need to gain my trust before I will even meet you.

After writing the letter Kirsten went back to cleaning, which took her mind off the letter she had received from 401, but she couldn’t help thinking about what this all meant for her future.


Chapter two

Three years later…

It had been three years since Kirsten had become a member of the BND, and she was now very familiar with its customs. Agent 401 had become one of her best friends. She still kept the secret from her parents, but now that she was 13, it was easier to handle lying to them.  

As she slowly walked down the stairs she saw something out of the corner of her eye. She spun around, but nothing was there.

“Nice try, Alexandra,” she said with a cool tone to her voice.

“Oh, why can’t I ever manage to scare you?”

“I guess that you’ll just have to practice.”

“I guess… but you are always getting better at knowing I’m there.”

“Keep trying.”

“Girls! Come down here to meet your new nanny!”

They ran down the stairs and turned the corner and nearly ran into their father and mother. They skidded to a stop beside their parents. As they looked up, they were welcomed by a warm yet strict smile. She was the most beautiful woman Kirsten had ever seen. She had long black hair and dark blue eyes, and she wore blue jeans and a beautiful red shirt.

“Hi, my name is Isabelle. I come from Sweden. What are your names?”

As they introduced themselves, Kirsten couldn’t help noticing what a childish glint lingered in her eyes.

One year later Isabelle was part of the family. They would play games and bake together. She was almost like a second mother.

It was their parents’ wedding anniversary, and Kirsten‘s mom was in the kitchen baking apple pie. Her mom then wandered upstairs and then suddenly came running down again in a fluster and went into the kitchen where she started to cry, which was strange for her. She almost never cried and was very good at hiding her emotions. Kirsten went into the kitchen to ask her mom if she was okay. But her mom wouldn’t answer.

That night at dinner her mom was quiet but polite. Kirsten was concerned for her mother, but she figured that she would be fine tomorrow. It was probably just one of those hunches she got into.  She would get over it soon

But she wasn’t better the next day, nor the day after that or after that. Then suddenly one day she cheered up and she was like that for a couple of weeks.

Life got back into its normal rhythm and the family was happy again.

Kirsten would go to school, and on weekends she would go to see agent 401 and  

train at the academy.

Her mother’s birthday was coming up, and Kirsten was planning to get her mother a new watch. But Alexandra wasn’t sure what to get her mom.

“How about a book?” said Kirsten.

“What a good idea. I’ll do that.”

The afternoon before Adèle’s birthday, Alexandra,who didn’t have her present yet,  made a suggestion to Kirsten.“Why don’t we send mom and Isabelle out for dinner so that I can get my present and make my card without mom seeing.”

“Great idea!”

So that evening Adèle and Isabelle went to one of the most expensive restaurants in town called the Garden.

Alexandra got her card and present ready for the next day and even had time to make a cake.

After a few hours the doorbell rang, and Kirsten went to the door and was pleasantly surprised to see her mother and nanny waiting to come in.

During that night Kirsten woke up a lot to the sound of the toilet flushing. In the morning her mother told her that Isabelle was sick and that she thought it must have been the food.

That evening, the table was full of food, and a huge pile of presents were piled in the corner. Isabelle was now too sick to get out of bed so that only four of the five seats were occupied. The presents were given and then the family went to bed.

In the morning, Kirsten went to her sister’s room to say good morning.

“Good morning.”

“Hi. I was thinking we could make a cup of tea for Isabelle.”

“Good idea! Race you down stairs!”

They made a cup of tea, then carefully carried it up to the third floor. Their parents weren’t up yet, so they had to be quiet. As the door creaked open they saw the lump under the covers. It wasn’t moving, which was odd because even when sick, Isabelle got up really early. They pulled off the cover a bit to see if she was awake, and what they saw would change their lives as they knew it.

Cold blood coursed through Kirsten’s veins and a sickening feeling flooded her heart. As blackness clawed at her mind, a wave of disbelief and sorrow hit her. And then, it was black!


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