She stared at the ceiling. She watched as the colours
swirled and disappeared, then reappeared without warning. It was like this
every night, the same dream, over and over again. She always woke a little
further on in the dream than last time. It disturbed her, the things that she
was seeing. There were people with powers getting chased by people with guns.
It was like Harry Potter crossed with GI Joe.
She could see the dark eyes of the shooters, as they shot down the
others. There was no mercy. She was forced to watch as one man shot another in
the back. She saw the blood spray out from him as he collapsed in a heap. The
shooter didn’t stop, he just moved on to the next victim as blood started to
pool around the body of the man. These
was not the dreams of a 12 year old girl, these were the dreams of a madman.
She turned over trying to get back to sleep. But no sleep came. It never did
come. So as the sun rose from the horizon, the bags were already present under
her eyes and Stella rose for another normal day. But this day was going to be
anything but normal.
I was woken by a red flashing light. The last thing I
remembered was climbing into the helicopter. I tried to stand, but stumbled and
fell back on to the bed. I rubbed my pounding head. Where was I? With the
little illumination that the light gave off, I could see four walls and a door.
I managed to get to my feet and stumbled towards the door. I tried to turn the
handle but it was locked. Why was I locked in? I had been saved from that awful
place, just to be locked up again. This cell had even less. There were four
concrete walls that were as cold as ice and a small bed in the centre of the
room. The door was made of steel, too strong to penetrate. Why? Why was I
locked up? I thought I was safe, I had gotten out. Had I somehow been captured
again? I continually turned the thoughts over in my mind, but one answer kept
coming up. What if I wasn’t being saved from that building, what if I was being
stolen? What if there was no-one that wanted to help me?
Stella was sitting at her desk when it happened. There was
no warning, the windows just smashed inwards and the door was torn off its
hinges. Everyone dropped to the floor. Armed people in khaki uniforms came in
waving guns around and checking faces. One got to her. The woman looked into
her face. “Here” she called to the others. They crowded around murmuring
“that’s her” and “she’s the one”. Her friends started crying out her name as
she was dragged kicking and screaming out the classroom door. Stella was thrown
into the back of a van. She felt something sharp pierce the skin near her neck
before she blacked out.
The girl was thrown into the cell in my second hour. She
looked scared, that’s probably how I looked. She didn’t speak for the first
hour, in fact, she was completely silent. Then the sobbing began, which then
turned into crying and then into screaming.
She was a lot younger than me, maybe 2 or 3 years and had pale skin,
beautiful blonde hair that flowed down her back and bright blue eyes. She was
sitting in the corner, near the door. Why was she here? More still, how was I
going to escape? I sat down, running through the events of the previous day.
Was it even the next day? I may only have been out for a few hours. But that
wasn’t important. Something was missing, something important. It hit me, the
hard drive was gone. I, once again, was trapped with no lead.
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