What would you do if you were in a dystopian world where schools were prisons and you were taken to be held prisoner?
In this world where the people are brainwashed to be terrified of anyone who may have special abilities. They are brainwashed to ha...
When I was a little kid. 8 year old as I recall. I remember these men shouting, banging and pounding on our door demanding to be let in before it cracked right down the very middle, splinters flying in all directions.
They had uniforms on that made them different to us, somehow more superior than the rest of us who were stood there in shock and terror as they thundered towards us at an alarming speed. They pushed my mother and father out of the way,one of them heading straight for me as another went for my older brother. while the rest forcefully held them in place.
The man roughly turned me round,grabbed my hands and latched something cold and harsh around them. Trying to escape was useless the metal would bite into my wrists cutting them. Steam rose from where the cuts were made, stinging so bad that I cried. The burn was turning into a rash that spread up my arms and further up the sleeves of the shirt I was wearing.
I was in so much pain that I couldn't control my body anymore it was trying to move away from a pain that was inside it , unescapable and brutal. So much so that I became wild calling for my brother kicking and screaming doing what ever it took to stop being dragged like a ragdoll.
My father managed to break free from his confinement of the burly men that held him as he fought to keep his children. Punching with all his might at the man dragging an unconscious 14 year old boy with long shaggy blonde hair, that hid the butterfly tattoo on the back of his neck he and I both had.
On my 8th birthday I just woke up with it, as if it had apeared during the night. My brother said it was the same for him too. My mother had said that it symbolized freedom. We never knew why our mother would tell us to always have our hair down, not that my brother had long enough hair to put up but she would always stress that we had to keep our hair covering our necks. I'd ask why and all she'd say was that she didn't want us to get sunburnt and if we asked further, well it wasn't good,I'll tell you that.
Then one of the men who had been holding my father pulled something out from within his jacket and jabbed it into the middle of my father's spine which sent him across the room shuddering,eyes wide, blood seeping from his nose as he screamed in agony, wreething in the torment of endless pain until his last dying breath and his heart beat no more.
That was when I stopped trying to get out of this man's grasp. That was when I felt the world freeze in place. That was when all the noise just faded away blocking out my mothers cries and that was when they took me away from my home.
This is my first time writing a story in this genre so comment and tell me what you think. If there is any constructive criticism you have for me then I'd be grateful and take it on board.
Oh yeah and vote of course 😊
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