Resist // l.s

Prologue.

{ T } he first of every month is always hard.

Everyone, everywhere sits in their houses in silence. All you can hear is the sound of everyone's breathing. The tick of a clock. Everyone flinches at the sound of a car, the sound of a dog bark. It's the slowest and most painful day of each month.
"You won't be picked, will you Lou?" I have to force a smile when I look at my younger sister. Her big wide eyes cause a pang in my heart.

"Nah, 'course not. It's only my second year, they won't want someone young like me anyway." The royal family picked seven individuals every month; all had to be over the age of eighteen, no older than thirty, and everyone within their kingdom had their name written down. It was a random selection. Though they claimed it was 'and incredible opportunity to live like a royal' everyone knew what really went on in there. For a whole month you were beaten, forced to cook, clean, entertain, do whatever they pleased. Usually each victim - or patron as they liked to call them - was allocated a member of the royal family to serve, and they would observe their progress. If they didn't think you were good enough...you were deemed 'faulty'. No longer worthy of life. And you were killed.

"Do you have everything ready Louis..? Y-you know, just in case...they don't like waiting," My nervous mother said in a soft voice. Her hands were trembling, that was easy to see. Running a hand through my hair, I nod and let out a soft breath.

"Yeah. My bag is by the door." Not that it mattered. They usually took your bags, chucked out everything you chose to bring and let you keep one item. Usually a photograph. I could see from the other side of my room my mother was trying not to cry. She looked off to the side, watching out the window; just waiting to see that dark black van pull up to our home. I glance over at my father and see he's completely stoic; staring at some spot on the ground with no expression on his face. There's so much tension in the room it makes me sick.

It gets to two pm and no one has moved. No one has gotten up to get food. We're all still sitting in the same position; only my sister has gotten up from the floor and is now sitting beside me, playing with two of her dolls. She doesn't get it yet. She doesn't know what could happen. "When do they usually finish..? You know, picking everyone up?" I ask my mother softly. She breaks her gaze from the window and lifts a shaky hand up to rub over his mouth.

"Six o'clock." And my heart freezes a moment.

You know that feeling when you can tell something's coming? That something is about to happen, something to catastrophically huge is about to hit you, but you feel so blind you don't know which direction it's coming from, or when it's coming, and how hard it's going to hit you? That's the sensation I feel. Something bads coming, the only difference is...I know what it is.

*****

"It's Five Fifty-Three." My father says, walking across the living room with his hands in his pockets. He's a sturdy guy, quite tall and well built. Not at all like me. I must take after my mother, cause I'm quite lanky and short. I've moved from the couch as well, now sitting on the armrest beside my mother who still hasn't moved. Her eyes are focused on her knitting needles, though she's stopped knitting for the last twenty minutes. I reach down and give her a smile. The tension has lifted in the room since it's almost over now. Even I feel a little better. "It's alright, mum. Come on, how about you start on dinner? I am a bit hungry you know," I try to joke with her and she bites her lips for a moment, looking up at me. Her eyes are still watery. But she manages a smile and gives my hand a squeeze, slowly standing up. "You're right. I'm famished," she said softly and slowly goes to the kitchen.

But she shouldn't have bothered. Because there's a knock on the door, and it's 5:56 and you would think they would've collected everyone. But there's a black van outside my house, and two men standing outside my door in black suits with black sunglasses, and they've said my name, and everything’s moving so quickly. All I can hear is that static sound you hear when your television satellite goes funny, and my whole body is numb; even when I pick up my suitcase, and my mother is crying and clinging to me so hard I can't breathe, and my father is holding my younger sister as she cries on him. Walking down my driveway is now foreign. My feet don't feel like my own; my head is spinning, even as they open up the sliding door and let me into the black van and I see all these other strangers sitting around me, some crying, some quiet. But it doesn't matter, because I've just thrown up and now everything around me is black.

A/N: HelloOOOOO MY MUFFINS, I am Bec, and this is really just something that has just popped into my head, so please be kind. I've been trying for AAAGES to come up with something cool and interesting for a fanfic of Larry, and I just kind of started typing, so I hope this is okay. I don't know how often I'm going to post, or if I'll continue with this, so please let me know what you think! It is a Larry fanfic, and throughout this book there MAY be scenes that are inappropriate or sex scenes or whatever, BUT I will warn you, so don't worry about that ^-^ hope you guys enjoyed this, I'll post chapter one shortly; this was just a little insight into what Resist is all about.

Love ya's ~ Bec.