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I wish I weren't me.

My name is Zachary Goode. I go to the Blackthorn Institute for Boys. People who aren't like you and me think it's a detention facility - but we know the truth. We know it's really the school we come from. A top secret school for assassins. Of course, some government workers know the truth about my school too. Some of them being spies.

At my school, I might be worshiped by the better part of my classmates, but a fair amount of them hated me when I first started in first grade too. It's because of my mom, Amelia Goode. She's the leader of an ancient terrorist group called the Circle of Cavan. And this is why I wish I weren't me. I don't know much about my mother and her "business" but I know enough to know that I don't share their views. And that's exactly why I don't know much about them.

My mom doesn't trust me. She thinks that if I knew the better part of what her organization does I would leak information to her enemies – the good guys, the FBI or CIA. And I must admit it is good for her that she doesn't trust me.

Because although I was trained to kill someone without hesitation – and my mother kills plenty of people every year it's different. I want to help people, innocent people. She wants to kill those people.

So at my school they train us, well. And then a lot of us are recruited to the Circle. They know Blackthorn is the best place to get cold hearted killers. But in our defense a lot of us don't want that, or at least not at the beginning. And some of us do join the CIA or other agencies. But if the Circle wants you … well let's just say you can't deny my mother unless you want to die – painfully.

The only reason I am alive is because she's my mother. I refuse to join the Circle. And any other boy would be killed for that, but not me. Because although my mother is cruel and heartless I guess it's hard to kill something that was inside you for nine months.

And I guess she does have a heart – or at least part of one because she loves me. Sure she still hurts me plenty, but she won't kill me. And for my mom that's rather impressive.

And I guess I love her too. Trust me, I try to hate her. And sometimes I do… but never for too long. Because it's impossible to hate your parents all the time. Or that's what I thought until I was seven…

"I heard she did it herself," grunted one of my mom's goons.

"But she… I thought she loved him!" replied another.

I pressed my ear closer to the door, hanging onto any information I could unbury about my mom and what she does when I am off at Blackthorn (all the time but summer vacation).

"But she did, I saw it. I was there."

"Her own husband?"

I gasped. The world started spinning… This could not be happening. I ran trying to keep my emotions in check… Come on Goode, you're an assassin. Emotions could kill you! But I didn't care.

I busted through the doors to my mother's study and she glared at me with the eyes we share. Those stupid emerald eyes!

"How could you!" I screamed.

"What?" she asked, emotionless.

"He loved you and you killed him! I loved him! How could you kill your own husband? You witch!"

"Filthy boy! Don't talk to me like that. I thought you were good, you can't even control your emotions. And do not tell me what I can or cannot do!" She screeched.

She took a step towards me and I tried to step back, but there was no space. She stepped closer, towering over my shaking seven year old body. Then she took one final step and slapped me across my face – hard. It took all I had not to cry. I could feel my right cheek swelling. She turned away, disgusted in me.

Then two of her goons dragged me to my "room" and threw me in, locking the door.

I laid there, emotionless. Wondering how I would live. My dad was the only person I really loved. He was the only person who could make my mom slightly happy. He was the only person who stopped her from unleashing all her rage on me. Who would protect me now?

I was alone. With my mom. Who I vowed I would hate for the rest of my life.