Lake's Secret Life

My name is Lake Harrison. I am 16 years old, and I am about to die.
My father, Tom Harrison, is missing, he has been for 5 years. His body was recently found in the city of Corolia. Before he went missing he was searching for something. He never told me or my mum what he was searching for, he just said it was important, something he was willing to die for. He did.
My mother has been useless recently. She is grief-stricken. She too has died. She went missing, like my father, but was found dead mere days after. I know who has killed my parents. They put me in a mental facility for it. They think I’m crazy. They think I’m mad. The hate me. All for just knowing. Knowing who my killers are. Because I’m going to die. I have no chance. I will die before I’m 20.
“Haha! Beat you!” I yelled at my housemate, Beatrice. We race home from school every day. Just for the heck of it, because, why not?
“Again?! Really?” She gasped for air. I always beat her. She isn’t very sporty, not like me. I have to be. She is always confused as to why I always use her dad’s fitness equipment. But I know. I know why I nearly died all those years ago, I know why I have to train. She is oblivious to all the clues. She can never know. She doesn’t even know where I was before I started living with her. The mental facility I broke out of. It was my home for about a fortnight, until I broke out. “Hey, Beatrice?” I called.
“Yeah?” she sounded suspicious, I don’t usually call her Beatrice. “I’m off to bed, I’m tired.” I had been training all night last night and went to bed without waiting for her response. Little did I know that was the last time I ever saw her.
I hear arguing but I can’t see a thing. I’m blindfolded. I try to call out, to scream, but my mouth has been sealed with a strap of duct tape. A ribbon and tape are the only things keeping me from them. I can break free. I’m not like them. I’m not normal. I am strong. I tense my muscles in my face and rip the duct tape from my mouth after breaking my handcuffs. I feel my eyelashes brushing the blindfold and rip it off my face. And then what do I do? I run. I pick up a gun from a shelf and run. The people I heard arguing yell. “THERE SHE IS! GET HER!” and I sprint. I sprint and I sprint, but I feel a searing pain in my neck. I’ve been shot. I hear the muffled sound of bullets flying and slump to the ground. A boy, about 14 comes forward to me. “I love you, Lake.” He says before pulling out a gun and shooting me in the head

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