The Lost and the Forgotten

Chapter One

Our family sits in the living room of our small house, waiting. We all sit eagerly in front of our television, prepared for the news. I'm sure everyone in our city is- just sitting and staring. My younger sister, Beth, gnaws on her nails. My mother clutches her hands on the bags of her shirt. Her knuckles slowly turn white and her eyes widen. My father and older bother, John, get our belongings together. Certain things like cans of food, bottles of water, jackets, extra clothes, guns and knives, ammunition, and matches are packed tightly in five backpacks, for each one of us.

I sit with my knees to my chest, and my arms wrapped around my knees. I hold them tighter against me, so no one sees me tremble. The widow to the right of the television has the blinds opened just enough to see out, but no one can see in. We live near the outer edges of the city, but we can see the tops of buildings near the City Center. It's deathly quiet. I hear my own heartbeat in my chest and feel like I might throw up.

Finally the TV flickers on and a man sits behind a desk. He looks like what he has to say is urgent. This is it. "Citizens of West Point, I'm not going to talk much, and cut to the chase. They're here. I repeat: They're here. Get out while you can. Pack extra ammunition and any files that you might contain of you or your family. Get out while you can. And the most important thing to remember-"

The television unexpectedly shuts off. The silence fills the air, and I feel Beth's clammy hands clutch my arm. I stand up off the ground and wipe my hands on my pants. My feet begin to tingle inside my boots from sitting down to long. I look at her. She looks so tired and sad... Her tiny hands scratch her cheek and she stands up.

Mom always said her and I look exactly the same. For the longest time I couldn't see it, but right now at this moment I do. She has my brown wavy hair and light blue eyes, with the turned up nose. The only difference is my eyes are darker, and I'm seventeen-she's six. She grabs my hand and we head to the kitchen. Dad hands us all our bags and we lock down the house. Before we begin to head out, I snatch the kitchen knives off the counter, fitting them in my belt loops. We sharpened them last night- each one took about three hours, but that's beside the point. All of us crowd by the back door, waiting to get out of here. When we get outside, the sudden smell of smoke fills our lungs. You can hear faint sound of screams come from the inside of town. Dad hands everyone a gun, except Beth, who holds my hand.

"We need to hop the fence and head down the back alley towards the woods." My father instructs. We run to the fence, and john hops over. I pick Beth up and hand her over to him. Mom and Dad get over slowly, and once we all are safe, one by one we run quietly down the alley and for the woods. A few other people do the same.

This all feels so unreal.. This whole situation is so-strange. It reminds me of the old Red Dawn movie. I like to picture myself as that girl who fought like a man; who wasn't afraid of shooting someone for the safety of the group. Except there's no way we can fight these people. We don't even know who the are. All we know is that they wear all black with black mask and have guns slung over the shoulders. They've taken over almost every town in the country, and have killed so many innocent people. I find it hard to believe that I can make a difference. Or even think about it. As we head into the great outdoors,(as John would call it), I spot my friend, Molly, with her family. She notices me and tries to smile. "Hey, Mom, can we join Molly and her parents?" I say breathlessly from all the weight on my back. She nods and we all walk a little to the right, and join in with them right when we reach the line of trees. Leaves crunch under the heel of our boots, filling the silence that hangs in the air.

"I never thought we'd be leaving so soon," Molly mutters.

"I know. I don't even know how long we'll be hiding in the woods for," I state. She huffs a breath and the wind kicks up. The middle of November leaves a chill linger, but it's not too cold.