They Chose Me (Draft 1)

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Panic, terror, and more panic slid around in my head. I won’t live through this. I could try- that’s not option.

What to do. I go through my options in a matter of seconds. I place my bowl in the sink, take a deep breath and turn back around. I take slow, steady steps next to my dad. The lady walks over and her mouth moves. My mind is buzzing. The lady’s mouth moves again, but this time I can hear.

“Turn out your pockets please. If I ask again-”

“No need to.” I say. I start as leisurely as I can with all my pockets except for the one with the money. I turn out my second to last pocket on the right of my jeans. I pull out the house key I used earlier, and my mind seems to work again because it pops with an idea so much my head feels full on one side, and I try to take a step but I stumble.

“You okay, Emma?” My dad asks.

“I think I need water,” I mumble.

“I’ll get it,” Brown Hair announces.

“No it’s okay, I’ll be fine. Thanks for the concern, and I have to put my key away.” I smile a fake smile filled to the rim with hatred and walk back towards the sink. I reach to the cabinet and pull out a plastic cup. I take my time filling it with water, and I begin to slowly satisfying myself with it. Even a better excuse, I think. I can almost feel my mind smiling at me. I can’t help smiling a little myself. Then I remember my mom, sister, and the world I live in. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to live, to have a dad, a house, and so much more. But I could have it all taken away.  My smile disappears as soon as it shows up.

Originally, I was just going to put my key away, walk behind everyone and take them out. I trust my combat skills enough. Ever since I could, I would practice hand–to-hand combat, as well as with a kitchen knife. Since I was twelve I wanted revenge. I just need to knock them over, grab my dad, and make a run for the door. I think my dad knows where this rebellion camp I heard my mom whisper about is. As I place my key on the edge of the counter, I try to catch my dad’s eye. He’s talking with the others about things I don’t care about, like weather. Rain or shine, I still hate this government for what they did and are doing. I take another long intake of precious oxygen and let it out. Now is the time. I abruptly turn around and step behind a guard.

“I heard it’s supposed to rain tomorrow.” The three guards are all bickering about whether it’s raining or not tomorrow. Like I care. I take my foot and hold on to the counter of the island next to me with my right hand. I bring it up to the somewhat bald guy’s back and exert all the force I can. He tumbles forward and falls flat on the ground. Now I have to move fast. Brown Hair is coming to my left so I fake a punch, but bring my right foot up instead. I hit his ribcage and all the anger built up inside of me explodes like a volcano. I might have knocked the air out of Brown Hair, oops. He sprawls on the ground moaning. Or maybe I broke a rib or two. Then the woman charges at me, but I see her coming. I take her arms by the wrist and I try to twist them. She’s not giving up yet. I catch my dad’s glimpse and he points upstairs and then points to my bag. I imperceptibly nod. He’s going to get things needed for escaping. He knows I can win this fight, or at least make them unconscious.

This time I take my left foot, she is expecting my right, I can tell. She’s keeping her stance in a way that she can easily block a right kick. But that opens her up for a left kick from me. Next to me Baldy starts getting up. Unlike my dad, he takes his time, expecting that I won’t win, or survive. When I bring my left foot up, I hit the official in her knee cap. She cries out in pain and I probably dislocated it or something. Nonetheless, she quickly regains her features of her determined face, but she’s not putting any balance on that side. My left leg is still posed in the air behind her knee, ready for my next move. I slam my foot against the back of her knee and she crumples down, grimacing. Baldy gets up and takes something out from his jacket. A red button on a gray metal box. Previous knowledge tells me that I do not when him to press the red button. I surge toward him, however he moves in the right time. He presses the red button, and runs the other way around the counter, picks up the hands of both officials and drags them out the door.