America: Land of the "Free"

Prologue

There was once a time when America was the home of the free and the land of the brave.

I was turning seventeen when it happened, my birthday. March 19th, 2016. It was 2300 hours. I had just come out of my steamy bathroom, my long hair had halfway dried, the moisturizer felt nice on my face. I took a drink of my bottled water when I heard it. Something heavy hit the front door. As protocol I hid behind the wall by my bedroom door. I could see the entryway but they couldn't see me. The door flew open. Eight men dressed in black and armour infiltrated. I grabbed my kerambit, Shayde, and waited. Two went down the hallway that led to my little sisters' rooms. Four went out toward the living area where they'd find the kitchen and master bedroom. Two more headed toward my little brother's room, which connected to mine. I heard my only full blooded sister scream. I had waited too long. I stepped out, knife poised. I left a gash in one's solar plexes. He tumbled. I recognized quickly the weak points in the armor and sliced the other's trapezius. Both his arms were useless. He ran forward and I got his gut too. As he fell limply to the floor I looked over. My eight year old brother was still sleeping soundly. My sister, I realized, was muffled. I ran out to the main entrance and stabbed the man between the floating ribs and the spine, in his lung. He turned and coughed blood onto me. No matter. He decked me in the face and I flew back. I was angry but I knew better than to alert the others. I stepped toward him slowly. He raised his radio. I cut into his gut and he fell. He released my sister and I helped her up but left the gag on. I didn't want her screaming.

"Go to my closet, there's the secret door to the attic." I whispered. Her eyes were wide with fear. She trembled. "Go!" I reinforced and shoved her. I watched as she hurried away. An arm came around my throat and waist. My knife fell.

No!

I kicked and thrashed about but he would not let go.

"Are you a Chistian?" He asked with a low voice. That's what this was about. So the rumors were true.

"Yes, and what of it? Are you jealous that I'm not going to Hell?" He had thrown me into the wall. His body pressed hard against mine and he had my arm trapped in a bar. I remember grinding my teeth to keep from crying out.

"I'll be sure to make your life a living one."