The hunt Begins

Chapter One: Cherished Memories

The normal function of walking was extremely difficult for me today. It was almost impossible for me to stay balanced. My bones felt weak, and my body felt heavy. These final moments were things I needed to cherish. Taking my final step off the stairs, I glanced around the hallway. Along gray painted walls were photographs of my family and me. These photographs brought so much joy to my mother. The memories of happier times, birthday candles and friends. These photographs were of the sweetness, the warmth of every season as those memories filled our hearts, we realized that photographs were something we all took for granted. These things littered every home and created such a unique and heartfelt moment that were then twisted into the idea of what a happy home was.

I went to the living room, were my younger sister, Morgana, my younger brothers, Entoan and Destery, my mother, and father were watching tv. My father looked up at me with worried eyes as he forced a half smile. "Are you ready?" he spoke, his voice shaky. My mother and younger sister turned their heads to me, and before anyone else could speak my little sister spoke, "Liwia!" Her voice was one of the things I knew I'd miss if I ever went away. She was only three years old and had already captured the hearts of so many people.

I made my way to the couch as she stumbled out of my mother's lab and waddled over to me, coming to a stop at my knees. A small tear went streaming down my face, wiping it away as I smiled, feeling her small arms wrap around me. I rested a hand against the top of her head, messing with her hair a little bit, she giggled as her tiny hands fought away mine. The small hand fighting subsided as I dropped my hand my side, holding onto Morgana's pinky. I looked back up at my parents; they were now embracing each other as their eyes still held even more worry in them. "Yeah dad, I'm ready." I finally replied. Just before anyone could get a chance to speak again my mother came rushing over to me and my little sister, her arms wrapped around me, squeezing myself and Morgana. "It's going to be okay, okay?" she spoke, almost whispering as she kissed the side of my head, nuzzling her face into the same spot. "It'll be okay" she repeated.

As quickly as the pounding of my heart went away, it came rushing back even quicker. I embraced my mother, arms loosely resting against her back. "I hope so" I whispered as we stood there for a few seconds, the stinging of my cheeks becoming more noticeable to myself as a few more tears snuck their way down my cheek. As the minutes felt like seconds to us, small squirming began to happen as my mother and I sniffed, letting each other go. "I'm sorry squirt, we didn't mean to squish you" I spoke, a small nervous chuckle escaping my lips. "Alright, we'll see you at school okay momma?" my father butted in, as he pulled my mother in close, kissing her forehead. I smiled.

My father was very good at controlling his emotions in front of my sister and I, but what he thought he was keeping a secret was actually something I had already known about; he wasn't as good as he thought he was. Behind closed doors my mother saw a softer side of him, a gentler version of himself than he let us see. Don't think for a second that he was someone who hurt us, he was still so kind and gentle with us, it's just my mother had a very good way of getting my father to really open up instead of dialing it back. My mother's hand rested on his firm chest as she once more forced a smile and sniffling as she wiped away her own tears, nodding.

As we turned away, one of my younger brothers finally spoke up. "I love you sis" Entoan said as my father and I walked out the front door, my mother closing it behind us. 'I love you too, Entoan' I thought as my father handed me an open umbrella. We walked to the car, opening the door to the car. I slid the umbrella into my father's hands and quickly jumped into our family's jeep. My father shortly jumped into the car, shivering.

The rain outside had grown colder since I was last looking at it. The sound of the engine starting up scared me. It might've been because I was already anxious, but hearing something that was usually a common sound sent my mind racing. I began to drift off into my thoughts. What if I was actually found to be a mutant? What would happen to my family? Where would I go? What would happen to me once I was gone? Would my family forget about me? These questions seemed to consume my thoughts. I became lost in them as the pitter-patter of rain drops splattering across the vehicle at a fast rate became nothing but distant sounds within my very own thoughts. I sat there quietly, resting a hand against my chin. Why did this ever become a thing? I had always thought that becoming a first year was going to be glorious. I was halfway to being an adult, having more freedom and something I'd never tell my parents about, but I so desperately wanted to have my very first kiss. To date whoever made me feel happy, whole even.

I know it all sounds pretty weird for a fifteen-year-old to even think such things like this, but dude, I was weird. I was beyond ready to have a full high-school experience and now... now it was all being threatened to be stripped away from me. I hadn't even gotten to school yet and I already felt stripped of my very own innocence. Why were 'mutants' a thing to fear? Sure... I can understand the weird and strange behavior of mutants... but weren't they people too? Weren't they somebody who still breathed and lived a life? Didn't they have families who sent their kids to school and worked 9 to 5s like the rest of the population did? Why was our government so hurtful. Come to think about it, the world I lived in today somewhat resembled the earlier stages of a...

I shook my head, as I lowered my hand down and gripped my wrist, rubbing my fingers into them. My hand had fallen asleep. 'Ouch' I thought as I continued to rub my wrist, my eyes still fixated on the small water droplets splattering against the car windows. For a few seconds I drifted my eyes to my father, he was focused. His eyes never break from the road in front of us. I shifted my gaze to the road; I don't think I actually ever realized just how heavy it was raining. Sitting in silence I continued to watch as the rain never eased up, slowly and surely, I had been pulled back into my thoughts again. A genocide. This was what our world was becoming. Why was this something I thought about? Why was I making such a comparison. That was an awful thought... to any sane person that is. But trust me, this was exactly like a genocide.

I mean, look at how mutants nowadays are treated. They're not respected. There's a clear line between 'us' and 'them'. They'll mark em', to help distinguish the 'us' and 'them' even more. Think of it this way, remember in history class how we were taught about the Jews in Nazi Europe and how they were all forced to wear stars to show that they were 'different'. Well... mutant people are captured and sent away. Which is exactly what classification and symbolization are. Then once mutants were captured, they're stripped of their rights and citizenship. Humans perceived as 'different' were treated with little to no human rights and personal dignity. Discrimination and Dehumanization. Every year our parents are forced to participate in the organization of these mutants. A world of pain eventually evolves into actual human beings carrying out the destruction of these mutants.

Ever since I've been alive, I've come across many people who spread their hate for mutants. Through the news, newspapers, books, tv shows etc. They've been doing this for thousands of years. This is exactly what polarization is. Now our government has moved onto actually planning on ways to get rid of any and all mutants, for good. They're planning. It never mattered if you were a child, a teenager, an adult, or the elderly. They had always been planning this. Preparation. I sighed, as I finally felt a stinging sensation in my wrist. I had gotten lost again and this time I seemed to rub my wrist raw. Shoving my hands into my hoodie pocket. "Are you okay Lillia?", my dad's voice beamed. I looked at him once more. "Yeah, I keep getting lost in my thoughts.", I responded, as I returned my gaze to the road before us. "The genocide thought again, huh?", my dad responded, still not breaking his eyes off the road. He had said that with such confidence, as if he was inside my head too. I scoffed at him. "Dad, you can't really be that oblivious to it, are you?", I boomed. My voice is still shaking a little.

"People are being identified as mutants just based off of differences from others. Mutants are then separated from their families and friends and sent to what we all know as the 'Academy'. They're tested on, starved, and worse, sold to the surrounding militaries of our country." I continued, as I felt my body heating up. "Lil, it's just a crazy theory your mind came up with.", my dad responded, as he glanced over at me. "Dad, seriously? Look at what's happened to them? To friends, your own brother for God's sake." I smarted off. I watched as the grip my dad had on the steering wheel tightened. "Lil, don't bring that up... not right now." He spoke with a hint of sorrow behind his words. "But dad, I'm serious.

The final stage is death. Death, for crying out loud.", my voice booming again. "Lillia Lynn Ray, I mean it. Stop it. You're doing it again. I DO understand, I promise you, but right now, I can't do much about it. This is our government. We have to do as they say..." he said, as he continued to scold me. " Don't you even think for a second, I have a choice in this. If it was my way or your mother's way, we'd run... far away from here. We'd take you kids and just... leave. But we can't. " He finished as he finally released the pressure of his grip from the steering wheel the color of his hand returned to its normal, whitish color. "Dad... I just... I'm scared." I spoke, feeling defeated.