Dangerous

Chapter 1

I woke up gasping for air, clawing for the edge of consciousness. My hands shook uncontrollably and my body was soaked in a cold sweat. I don't remember my dream-- the government blocks them from our memories--but I know that it hadn't been pleasant.

I pushed my tangled hair back from my forehead, glancing around my room. My eyes fell on my clock, and my stomach plummeted to the floor and below. The date flashed in red block letters, just the same as any other day. And to anyone else, that's probably what it was.

But today is April seventeenth, two thousand sixty four. My sixteenth birthday.

It's my turn now.

Robotically, I put on my robe and shuffled to the kitchen. My mother stood scrubbing at the dishes when I walked in, the same worn, white apron resting around her hips, the same dull frying pan being scrubbed furiously in the same metal kitchen sink. The sight was painfully familiar. I looked away, blinking tears from my eyes.

My little sister sat at her spot at the table, messily shoving pancakes into her mouth. She looked up at me as I entered, a beaming smile on her face. "Good morning, Jessie!" she said loudly, wrapping her tiny arms around my waist. I smoothed her hair back from her forehead, tears now falling freely down my face as she buried her face into my stomach.

I have to leave her behind. Young, innocent Cassidy, left with no one but my grieving mother for company for the next twelve years, until it's her turn. I hope for her sake that the government is done with playing these foolish, deadly games when it's time for her to be taken away. I couldn't care less about me; nothing is going to change in my situation. It's impossible to shut down the government in less than thirty six minutes.

Thirty six minutes. I had thirty six minutes left with my family, and I had no clue what to do with it. Ask for forgiveness for everything bad I had ever done? Sit quietly with them and enjoy each other's company?

Thirty five, and I was sitting here dumbstruck, like a fool.

Thirty four.

At twenty nine minutes, I got up and hugged my mother tightly. She smelled like lilac and laundry detergent. She burst into tears. I did too.

Around sixteen minutes, I sat with my sister quietly. She grabbed my hand, much like I had done to Marcus, four long years ago. I sniffled loudly, and she buried her face into my shoulder. I wondered how much she really understood out of all of this. Tears clung to my eyelashes, not allowing me to simply let go. God dammit, just let me let go.

Three. Two. One.

The doorbell rang and I gasped loudly. Cassidy gripped my hand tightly.

Mother went to go answer the door. I heard the clunk of loud boots in my living room, gruff voices, my mother's voice timid and quiet. She knew the drill. And by this time, so did I.

She came in to get me. I slowly stood from my seat at the head of the table, Cassidy's hand tangled with my own. She refused to let go, and frankly, I didn't want her to. My four year old sister had more courage than I did. I took my mother's hand with shaking fingers and marched through the swinging door of our kitchen with as much dignity and courage as I could muster, my only sources of strength standing on either side of me.

The same two men. The same two men, every time. The one with the once broken nose was now clean shaven, but his eyes still glinted with hostility. The other one simply watched me approach, his face blank.

"This is Jessalyn," my mother said quietly. She gently let go of my hand. I wanted to be so selfish, to yell, to scream, for her to put her hand back into mine, for her to hide me, to not let them take me away, but I didn't. I couldn't bring myself to do anything other than nod quietly. I was a risk already. I couldn't have my family getting hurt as a result of my poor judgement. Alex knew the consequences of that. After his outburst, we were denied access to the orchards for a month. I remember sitting in the dark alone at night, begging sleep to bestow itself upon me so I could finally free myself from the raw hunger that had gnawed its way into my empty stomach.

"I'm Rodney, and this is Paul. We'll be your guards on the way to the institution," the guard with the crooked nose said to me, giving me a smirk. The other guard, Paul, simply nodded in my direction.

Cassidy started to sob. My heart broke, and I knelt down next to her, wiping the tears from her baby face. We shared the same eyes. She was an indirect reflection of me; my defiant nature, my curiosity. She could be dangerous too; but I couldn't dare to think of that right now.

"Cass," I whispered as gently as I could. "Cass, it's okay. I love you. Don't you ever forget that, okay?" I was crying now, too. "You have Mommy. She's here for you. She'll protect you. She'll keep you safe." I heard my mother begin to cry in the background. "I love you. Be good." I kissed her forehead.

Cassidy was sobbing, screaming. Instantly, the sound of Alex's screaming, tangled with my mother's, replayed in my ears. She reached for me, long limbs desperate, but my mother held her back. I made eye contact with both of them, one last time, before I turned to the guards.

"Lead the way." My tone was ice cold, and I glared at Rodney. He raised an eyebrow in surprise, but pointed his weapon to the door. I wanted to punch him, to rebreak his nose, to take his weapon from him and knock him unconscious with it. He had ruined my life, and I wanted to ruin his.

I closed my eyes, swallowing hard. Cassidy was still screaming. I couldn't get the sound out of my head.

One step, then the next.Then another. I stood in the doorway now, Cassidy's sobs still in the background, my mother trying to calm her, telling her everything would be okay. But it wasn't and it wouldn't be; we all knew that. Cassidy was losing a sister, a companion, the only friend she had ever known. My mother had lost everyone, except for the sobbing baby in her arms. They were all each other had. Once Cassidy leaves, if she leaves, who will be there for my mother? I shook my head, attempting in vain to rid myself of the thought.

My suburban neighborhood was quiet, still. A long line of houses, identical, with barely three feet of space in between them, stretched miles in each direction. We're considered one of the poorer parts of the nation, after the explosion of the big city eighteen years ago. We don't have all of the technology that the towns on the outskirts have; we still wash our dishes by hand, clean with a broom and dustpan. We're a lost cause, us inner city folk, according to the government, so that's why we get selected first. Fighting this war will supposedly put the US back on top as a world superpower, a position we lost twenty years ago when China attacked. They had threatened our safety, and despite the best efforts of the National Reserve, we couldn't pay back our debts. Inflation rose impossibly high, the economy plunged, China destroyed the big city, and the war began. No longer having money to pay the salaries of soldiers, or for a military fleet of any kind, the government decided to take children turning sixteen and train us in specialized institutions to become killers. I involuntarily snarled at the thought, and Rodney prodded his weapon further into my back, pain erupting in my spine.

My best friend Chase, in his cinderblock house next door, was probably still asleep. He doesn't know when my birthday is, that I was getting taken away today. We weren't permitted to tell one another. It was a horrible way to live, knowing that every time you said goodbye to a friend could be the last time you ever saw them. I desperately wanted to say goodbye to Chase, but I knew that I'd be forbidden, so I pushed down the lump in my throat and wiped away the endless tears streaming down my face.

I took a deep breath that shuddered all the way to the tips of my toes and stepped out the door, the guards close behind. The door slammed shut, my sister's crying abruptly cut off. I struggled to breath.

And despite the two men on either side of me, I couldn't feel more alone.