Why Me?

There it is. That car again. It was a Porsche 911. If he was planning on breaking into my house, it looked like he already had enough money considering he was driving a Porsche. It shows up at 3:00 on the dot everyday. It has been doing this for about three weeks now and I am getting scared. He stays for about ten minutes and then he leaves. Today when he came, I did the stupidest thing I have ever done. I went over to the car and knocked on the window. The car door blasted open and a huge, bald, ugly guy jumped out of the car. Shoot!, I yelled. My first instinct is to start running. It is a good thing that I run track for the High school, but this guy was catching up. I felt a huge shock through my body and I fell to the ground completely hopeless and all I saw was black.


“Ahhhhh!” I screamed. God my head hurts. “Good, He’s awake”, said a tall muscular man. “Where the hell am I?”, I questioned. “You are at the CIA headquarters”, said the man. “My name is Scott, and I am the head of the CIA”. “Why did you take me?”, I said. “We discovered that your father is really the head of a drug ring in California.” “When he frequently goes on business trips, he is really going to downtown Los Angeles.” “No”, I said. “You’re Lying.” “I wish I was, Wyatt, I wish I was.” “We need you to get close to your dad and find out where his next drug deal will be.” “If you complete this task, you will be a new member of the CIA and will be rewarded 750,000 dollars.” “Fine”, I replied.


When I got home, my dad was passed out on the couch with liquor bottles everywhere and cuban cigars lying on the floor. Why does he do this to himself? We have lots of money and all he does is drink and smoke. Maybe Scott is right. Ever since I was a little kid, my dad has never been there for me and all he does is ignore me. I have to find out what is really going on. I walked into his office. He must have something in here. I started checking the drawers. On the bottom drawer of his desk there were lots of folders. All of them had labels on them but the one in the far back didn’t. That’s strange. I grabbed it and started looking through it. What the hell? Scott was right. It was his ledger that was full of papers of his purchases and sales of drugs. Maybe that is why our house is so nice. He has invested 24 million dollars selling drugs. I can’t believe this. Why would he do this? He could have done so much better. Why did he choose to throw his life away. I better take this folder and give it to Scott. Shoot someone’s coming. I ran out of the office and upstairs to my room. On my bed was a box that was marked “to Wyatt from Scott.” How in the world did he get in my room? I ripped the box open. In the box was a cell phone, a phone number that said scott next to it and… a gun?


Oh my lord. Why would they give me a gun? I could never shoot someone let alone kill someone. Whatever. I called Scott. I told him the information and hung up. I went back downstairs and my dad was wide awake talking to someone. I think he thought I wasn’t home because he was talking pretty loud. “Ok, tomorrow night I will bring the goods to the dock. You better have my 3 million or you’re a dead man.”, he said. Tomorrow morning I called Scott and told him about what I learned. He told me to follow my dad to the dock and wait for backup. That day of school was the longest day ever. When that final bell rang I sprinted home. I realized how horrible my dad has been to me all my life and I don’t even feel bad that he is going to go to jail for the rest of his life.


It was 11:30 PM when my dad left the house. My mom was already asleep so I took her car. I followed him down to the docks but I parked a couple blocks away so he wouldn’t recognize the car. I hopped the fence to the dock and hid behind some boxes. “I thought you wouldn’t show up,” my dad said. “ I am here aren’t I,” the other man said. “Do you have my money.” “Yes,” the other man said. Now or never I thought. I jumped out and yelled “freeze”. I had my gun pointed towards my dad’s head. “What the hell is this nonsense?,” the other man said. Shoot. I was supposed to wait for backup. “What in the world are you doing here Wyatt,” my dad said. “I am working for the CIA,” I said. “You are under arrest.” “You can’t arrest me without a gun can you,” he said. My dad whipped out a pistol and shot my gun out of my hand. Oh god no. “ I have to do this Wyatt, so if you are against me, so be it. “A shot rang out and I dropped to the cold, hard ground. “WHY ME!,” I screamed out. “I’m sorry buddy.” Another shot rang out and all I saw was blackness.