On The Run

Prologue

It was just over five years ago that I was pulled out of school after the sixth kid in my class had disappeared and my mom had gotten that pink notice from my teacher. I still remember all of it; the word death bold and underlined, impossible to miss on that pink paper, how paranoid my mom looked; and the pool of blood that spilled over my blue sheets when she was shot.

I was to young then to know why I was taken away from my friends; those who were left, and what the words on that notice meant. Idiopathic Adolescent Acute Neurodegeneration? I had no idea what that was, but now I know it's worse than I could have ever thought. I never asked my mom about any of it either, I was terrified of what she would say and about the answer.

That feeling, though, will never compare to the feeling in my chest as I watched my mother die. She was shot right in front of my eyes by the PSF's; people in black uniforms who I know now, take children and put them into "Rehabilitation camps". They showed no mercy as they fired once, twice, three times; the sound pierced my ears and the sight of my mother, her lifeless eyes staring at nothing, the blood pooling around her was horrific. That was the last time I ever saw her before I ran away with my sister Caroline; and I have been running ever since.