Taken {Harry Styles}

one

When I woke up, my little sister wasn’t in the bed that we shared. “Maisy?” I whispered. I looked around our one-room house and saw that no one was here, not even my mother. I shivered as I stepped out of the small bed as the cold air engulfed me.

All of a sudden, the door opened to reveal a freezing Maisy with a foot of snow behind her, “Lena! Come quick!” she frantically ran up to me before I could say anything and grabbed my hands with her small ones. Once we were outside, I got a better view of what was going on. Snow was falling from the sky and it was beautiful; the first snow of the winter. As I was taking in the beauty that is rarely seen here, she shook my sweater.

I looked down at her to find her eyes welled up with tears. “Wh-” she stopped me and pointed to a see a person sprawled out in the snow, not moving.

My mood instantly changed from in awe, to panic. That was my mother passed out in the snow.

“Go inside, Maisy. Now.”

I frantically moved to her body that was laid down on the snow. How long has she been here? Her uncovered face was dressed in frost while her fingers were purple. She was wearing her coat, the only one she owned, but that is not enough to keep her warm. Her body looked more worn-down than usual and I was really scared. My mom cannot die, not after my dad was taken. My adrenaline was kicking in and I picked her body up, using all my strength. My heart was beating a mile a minute.

I brought her inside and laid her body on the only bed we owned. Her eyes fluttered as I wrapped her in all the blankets we have, and prayed to God that she will be alright. My sister was sitting at the table, crying.

“Mom, please,” I muttered as time went on. Our house was freezing, considering the fact that we didn’t have heat. I mean, it wasn’t our fault we didn’t have it. It is not allowed here in England.

I spent my time waiting by wrapping my sister in a hug to keep her warm. “Is mommy going to be okay?” she whimpered.

“Yes, she'll be fine,” I told her.

After all the attempts of trying to warm my mother up, it worked.

Her eyes fluttered open, with a small moan coming from her mouth. “Mom!” Maisy rushed over to her and hugged her. “M-maisy,” my mother quivered. My sister flopped on top of her and stayed like that for a few minutes.

“Maisy, can you give me a minute to talk to mom?” I asked her. She nodded and went to the other side of our house to play with the very little toys that we owned.

“Mom, what were you thinking?” I asked her. “Why were you passed out in the snow?”

A single tear shed from her eyes. “I-I just needed to protect you.”

“Why? From what?” Better yet from who?

“Can you do me a favor and sit me upright?” she interrupted. I nodded and set her body upright against the wall.

“Ow!” she whimpered in pain.

“What is it?”

She ignored me and bit her lip in agony. I took off the blankets and her coat and revealed that her shoulder was all bruised. “Mom!” I gasped. "What happened?”

“I just wanted to protect you,” she repeated.

“Mom, tell me what happened. Now.” I need to know these things.

“Last night, I went outside for some fresh air and there was a guard. He-he,” that was all she could say before she burst out into tears.

I stroked my mother’s arm and looked at her with pleading eyes.

“He was the only person there,” she whimpered, “he-he raped me and shoved me to the ground after... I think my collarbone is broken-”

I brought my hand up over my mouth and my heart stopped beating. For the first time in a while, I cried. “M-Mom." I hugged her. I hate this country so much, but I could never say that out loud, I would be murdered for it.

England was currently under a state of oppression. When I was eleven a man named Dahmer, a political activist, overthrew the government. He has been a harsh dictator of our country, or should I say his country, for the past seven years. He is a cruel, cruel man. His corrupt guards are always prowling the streets in their camo-green trucks, watching everyone’s move. He makes himself seem like he is a good man, who is doing good things for this country, when in reality he is a selfish jackass.

Every single person who lives here is poor. He forces everyone to pay outrageous taxes so he can have his luxuries. He lives in a large mansion in the outskirts of London with his hundreds of concubines. It is purely disgusting. He takes innocent women and makes them his sex slaves.

Over the past few years, I have learned ways to get by without being killed. I have to blend in with the crowd, and not draw attention to myself. I cannot say negative things about Dahmer, otherwise I will be hunted down and killed. I also have to be careful who I trust. Anyone, I mean anyone, could secretly be working for him.

You may be thinking, why doesn’t another country do something about it? The thing is, no one else knows about the oppression except the people living in it. There is no internet, and we are not allowed to leave the country. No one is allowed to come into England, and no one is allowed out. There is absolutely no communication to anyone out of England.

The only person spreading the image of our country is Dahmer. He always brags to other countries about how wealthy and happy our country is, when it is really just the opposite. England is a scary place to live. I rarely leave home, but when I do, I have to be very careful.

My father was taken when I was fifteen and I have not seen him since. I have absolutely no idea where he could be. There is no way to find him; he could be dead for all I know. So many people have been taken, tortured, and killed. The population of England has actually been cut in half since Dahmer came to power, that’s how bad it is. He doesn’t tolerate a lot of things.

Everyone that has been killed, were taken for stupid reasons. It was usually for reading a banned book or listening to music. Yes, music is not allowed in England. The rest of the people were executed for protesting or attempting to kill Dahmer. Everyone wants him dead, yet no one talks about it. Paranoia is at a large scale here, because we don’t know who works for him and who doesn’t.

I ran my hand through my knotty hair, trying to think of what to do. I paced the room, but nothing was coming to me. I clenched my fists, due to my frustration.

 My mom just got raped. The guards are known for this kind of stuff. But I never thought it would happen to someone like my mother. I remember back when I used to go to school, a girl in my class was raped by a guard at the age of thirteen. I can’t imagine how traumatizing it would be for my mother, let alone a thirteen year old girl.

“Lena.”

I brought my head up to see my mother. “Yes?”

“I need you to go to the market and purchase some groceries. Please try to buy a few more blankets too.”

“But Mom, it’s so expensive, we can’t-”

“It’s okay Lena, just go. Please.”

I nodded and went over to the kitchen table. I moved it out of the way and pulled up a loose board in the floor. I reached my hand down and grabbed the jar where we kept our money. I shook it and then opened it up, there’s not much left.

“Bye Maisy,” I said as I passed her when I made my way to the door. I grabbed my old coat and slipped on my rugged boots.

As I was about to open the door, my mother said, “Please be safe.”

I looked back at her one last time and nodded.

“I love you.”