Sara Doyle

          “Finally.” Sara Doyle said as Turquoise came into Classroom D. “I thought you’d never come.”

Turquoise grinned at her. Sara was 16, had piercing green eyes, and extremely long black hair.  

Turquoise suspected she dyed it, but so far was incapable of catching Sara red handed.

Sara’s mutation was aim. She never missed a target. Literally.

“Are we starting, or what?” Sara asked.

          “Oh, we’re starting.” Turquoise replied. “Today we’re working on guns.”

          “Oh, goodie.” Sara stated happily. “I thought we were going to do blow darts again. That was horrible.”

          “No kidding.” Turquoise said. Last week, she and Sara had worked on blow darts. It was a complete fail. Sara had accidently inhaled a semi-poisonous dart, and was sick for 3 days.

          “Alright.” Turquoise said, pulling out a box of assorted guns. “Do you know what type of gun this is?”

          “That’s a rifle.” Sara said.

          “Correct. Today we are working on rifles and shotguns. Choose a rifle.”

          Sara pulled a modern rifle out of the pile that was as black as her hair.

          “Good.” Turquoise told her. “Now, do you know how to load and fire a rifle?” Sara nodded. “Let’s see it then. I’ll tell you if you’re making any mistakes.”

          Sara carefully loaded the bullets into the gun, lifted it up, aimed at the target, and fired. The bullet hit the middle of the X, right inside the bull’s eye.

          Sara herself however, didn’t do so well. The kick of the gun knocked her back 10 feet into the wall. Turquoise rushed over to help her up.

          “Are you okay?” Turquoise asked.

          “Fine.” Sara replied, spitting out a mouth full of dirt.

          “Well, you know how to fire the gun, you just need to get used to the kick. Try again.”

          Sara grabbed the gun and fired. The bullet hit the exact same spot. This time, Sara only flew back 5 or 6 feet. She shot again, and again, and again, and again, and again for what seemed like forever. After 45 minutes, Sara could reload in precisely 4 seconds and had completely mastered the kick of the gun. For the rest of the lesson, Sara worked on the shotgun. That part went much faster.

          “Great job.” Turquoise said approvingly. “Next time, we’ll work on knifes.” Sara almost glowed in anticipation. “See you later.” Turquoise said, putting away the guns.

“Bye.” Sara said and walked down the hall to the kitchen for dinner. 

The End

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