The First Boy She Would Ever Kill by Annie Le, inspired by tumblr users nickcarragay and ptgreat

http://my-name-is-really-neil-mcneil.tumblr.com/post/95854873347/dustinmathisen-ptgreat-nickcarragay

dustinmathisen:

ptgreat:

nickcarragay:

petition to make young adult authors stop writing about girls whose lives change when they meet a boy

When she saw him time slowed to a stop.  He was so perfect and she knew her life would never be the same because she had finally found him.  The one.  The first boy she would ever kill.

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And then everything started moving again. She breathed breathes like they were her last. But no, these would be her first.

How would she strike? Not her gun or knife; she needed something quick and inconspicious. Poisons. Her ring would do. Slow acting. Small dose. Rhododendrens. It was 5:14pm, the poison would start around 10 or 11, and no one would be around. (She lamented the fact that she wouldn't see him die. It would be slow. He wouldn't even notice until it was too late. Until his throat clogged. Until his body shook. Until his heart stopped and-)

She smiled contently as she absently played with the ring she was wearing. (Carefully switching the cynacide with the rhododendren capsule.) Glancing around at the park in the hot summer, she rested her head on the palm of her hand. (Reaching back to click the button on her earring.) Her phone rang, and she fumbled in her giant purse to find it, gasping lightly at the text on the screen.

Tossing the nearly empty cup of Iced Chocolate Chai Tea Latte, with extra whipped cream, into the trash as she jumped from her seat, she pretended to reply to the text distractedly as she hurried down the park sidewalk. Right into him. Her phone fell to the grass, and she brought up a hand to cushion the impact, but only succeeded in slapping the boy's arm. (His sleeves were rolled up in the sticky heat. How stupid.)

"Ohhh my gosh, I'm sooo sorry!" she exclaimed, backing up, grasping tightly at her hands (and closing the cap on the needle).

He laughed and said, "It's fine," and picked up her phone, handing it to her. She smiled sheepishly.

"Thanks." As she ran off, her lips curved, and she pressed her big thick glasses up. Baggy shirt, short shorts with a high waist, clunky boots, and plain brown and blonde hair in a messy bun. She was just another clumsy summer hipster.

She disappeared into the city crowds, just a drop in the sea.


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First off, I'd like to talk about how I had to google: "how to kill someone in public with poison", "how to assassinate someone in public", "poisons without traces", "slow poisons without traces", and "polonium poisoning".

...

I had to google those things.

Writing is hard and researching is typically filled with the paranoia that the NSA is over your shoulder.

Also, I've been sick since Friday. I was deliriously functioning on meds yesterday. I am coughing my left lung out, and also tearing a bloody hole in my throat.

Sorry if this isn't my best work.

The story is based on the idea above, and continues off of it. Honestly, it's such a great idea. For this story, the main character is a girl that has been trained to be an assassin since birth, and, at the age of 17, takes part in her first hit.