"Kay..." She trailed off. "Of course it's you. You are the only one who would be  blinking so rapidly while holding your breath when you are shocked. That habit stayed."

She remembered. The only one that actually notices such things about me.

I stop blinking and let go of the breath I unconsciously held. I'm sure if I hold it for any longer I would have run out of oxygen and suffocate to death.

Saw her long-lost friend and was so shocked she suffocated herself to her tragic death.

That would be what was written on my gravestone.

I shook my head slightly. I got too carried away. I guess that's what people do when we are too lonely. We start to hallucinate. Sorta. That's true because I haven't been talking to people since Amity was gone. I meant like really talking , about my feelings, emotions or life. Those are things I will never dream of talking to my parents.

"Amity..." I managed to croak out. It has finally dawned on me that she is , really the Amity.

Somehow I feel like crying although I'm not much of a emotional person. Who  am I kidding? I try to recall the last time I cried.

Yup, it's on my seventh birthday. Amity was already gone by then.

Now , I just feel stupid bawling my eyes out over something that was totally not worth it. My parents. It's not like they even care about me. So why should I care about them?

This was getting too cliché for my comfort. I clear my throat and inquire, " You..you came back. Why? It's been like ten years already. Why now out of all time?"

She smile sadly," It's a long story... And lunch is about to end. How about I tell you about after school? Can I go to your house?"

Of course she still remembers how to get there. It used to be next to her own. I sigh inwardly at how many great memories we had there. Now it just flew away with the wind.

True enough, the bell rang, signaling that end of the lunch period , and my impending doom--- it's history right after lunch.

I muffled a groan as I thought of history. I have always been beyond annoyed with the fact that I am not blessed with photographic memory. The inventors, including my parents , are working on that. I know I have the memory containers, but they have flaws. Plenty of flaws.

For example, sometimes a whole folder of information just goes missing, or the file is too full I can't squeeze anything more inside.

Anyway, why do we even need to learn about history ? Isn't all these advanced technology enough?

And the history teacher's stupidity just adds to the fact that history is the least favorite subject out of all of them. Not like I like any of them though. Maybe just science.

By the way, do you know what is the history teacher's name? Wait for it... It's Ms mridiott . Get it ? It's Ms mridiott.

Haha.

Sometimes I just lament to myself about how they couldn't just changed all the teachers to robots. Heard that they are working on that. For ages now.

Then I remembered that I was standing in front of my used-to-be best friend.

Quickly, I nodded. Curiosity got the better of me although I'm kinda angry at her for just moving away without even a Goodbye. She was my best friend. Surely I deserve at least that.Anyway,curiosity might have killed thousands of cats but who gives a damn.(A/N: no cats were harmed in the making of this chapter.)

After school

Amity's pov

I tug nervously at my shirt.

Buzz. The doorbell machine says, awaking from its long slumber.

I'm guessing no one has been using it recently since I know Kamilah is kind of...closed. To people. She didn't used to make lots of friends. Okay, just me. I have no idea how she is like now, but her sitting alone during lunch does tell me a thing or two about her personality . It hasn't changed.

Amity Jameson. I say, staring straight into the camera as it scanned my irises.

I know how to use it as I used to come here to find Kamilah to play with me almost everyday.

Until I had to move away because of my dad's job.

Her house has two so called door bells. Except they are much more useful. One is for strangers, which you can use to see there appearance, check their personal information then decide if you want to let them in. Pretty boring stuff.

The other one is much cooler. It's for friends, family etc. You just have to key in the person's name and let the machine scan their irises in order to save it. Then, the person can come in.

Don't worry, it's very safe. Only individuals holding on to the password can add new people into the so-called contact list.

And how do I know all this? My house used to have that too. Used to. That particular phrase fells overused. I guess time does kill everything.

However, knowing how to and using it does not mean I like it. Technology and stuff makes me feel like the world is full of machines and has no more humanity. But I guess you can't blame Kamilah though. Her parents are both CEOs of companies evolving all around technology.

My dad used to be the CEO of an archaeological company. Used to be.Ironic how our parents work for opposite things but Kamilah and I became best friends.

Soon, someone came for the door. My lips curled upwards as I remembered Sarah, the head of the maids in Kamilah 's home.
  
Robot maids.

She was such a nice 'girl'. They even installed some human emotions in her. She was kind and even played with Kamilah and me last time.

But the person who appeared by the doorway is definitely not Sarah. It was a expressionless robot. I was disappointed, to say the least.

As soon as I stepped into the house, Kamilah appeared before me. Her icy expression melted and instantly hardened again, to an almost angry one.

I felt anger surge through me as I thought of the things I went through the past ten or so years. How dare she be angry at me for what, I don't know, not saying goodbye to her?

Still, I made myself came down. No matter what, I must be on good terms with Kamilah now.

"Come,"she said curtly.

I nodded and followed her to her bedroom. It was quite a long and silent trip. Almost awkward but still somehow comfortable silence.

It was weird and familiar in her room. Somethings have changed, but some haven't. Like the pictures of us as kids hanging on the wall.

They were taken by my parents. I want to burst out crying at the thought of them. My parents.

Nonetheless, I managed to control myself. Come on, Amity, you can do it. I cooed to myself.

"So what happened? What happened that is so horrible that you couldn't have even told your best friend , or even bid her a goodbye?" She yelled at me.

I stared at her. It's so not like Kamilah to show a burst of emotions. But it did show that she still takes me as her best friend.

I smirked.

But I'm still your best friend, aren't I?" I said cheekily.

She looked thoughtful. Just when I thought she is going to blow of her top and be mad,a smile crept up her lips.

"Tou fu." She said.

And I broke into a smile.

Then the guilt hit me. Hard.

Maybe I shouldn't have accepted his offer.

Three weeks ago

I was walking back home. I decided to take a short cut through the dark alley. Bad decision. A man appeared .

"You Amity Jameson?" He asked.

I nodded.

"You know Kamilah Myracle?" He asked again.

I nodded, more hesitantly this time.

"Good, you go do this... I give you a million dollars. I'll find you again two week later.Or else... Your precious grandma's dead."He whispered in my ear menacingly as he handed me an envelope.

My body tensed. He doesn't look like he's joking, with the tattoos and a sneer plastered on his face.Grandma has already done so much for me . I would be willing to do anything for her.

I gasped as I looked at the content in the envelope.

It says to kill Kamilah 's parents.