Non-Stop

--1--

I lay near the window planning my escape. My brown curls near my hot cheeks as I stuff my hands under my black hoodie sleeves. My eyes are on the scratched glass, seeing through it, passed it outside was blue lights as helicopters flew in the dark midnight skies searching for run away soldiers.

I lived in sector 15, the sector of the poor, the low scores. I pressed a hand to the glass feeling the cold. I opened in my backpack heavy.

The white German shepherd Jack nudged my ribs. I glanced back and saw his blue eyes shining with loss. "Come on" I grunted quietly before taking the leap out the window.

The wind hissed around me, the ground approaching quickly. Thinking like a feline I crouched and slammed into the grass my hands red and feet aching. I grunted and Jack yelped. Jack glanced around intelligently sniffing as lights flashed above the trees. I ducked into the reeds and waited until only darkness blanketed the night near my house. Then I dashed out of the trees onto the dusty path that lead away from the house, I skipped down into the ditch and along the marsh, mud covering my boots. Jack followed wagging, happy to be outside.

I ducked under brown branches, the water slashing around my feet. The darkness hid many secrets including the brambles that stuck to my hoodie and backpack, scraping my arm and making me whimper in pain.

I yanked away with effort and dashed along the marsh having no idea where I was headed. I felt the earth give way and I slid into the mud, the silvery moonlight on me as I slid out of the trees and marsh down a muddy hill toward a second ditch. I didn't scream but bit my tongue in fear as I neared the ditch.

Jack suddenly grabbed my hood yanking and I stopped my hand reaching up to grab his leather collar. Jack was slipping too, whimpers escaping him. "Let go " I ordered, he did.

I fell into the hard, cold, wet, ditch, my eyes watery and shoulder aching. My body was covered in mud, smeared with water and even animal poo.

I cried, silently but openly in the ditch. I wanted to escape my horrid family, my over populated room of siblings. But I missed the warm house already. I stood near the road as vehicles rolled by on the metal streets. In the distance I saw the city, buildings everywhere and a single line of smoke feeding into the moons place in the sky.

I sighed and turned to head up the muddy hill and back home, but suddenly a light shown down on me, blinding. Jack yelped, snarling and barking but everytime I opened my eyes they seared with pain. Arms grabbed me and then a pain hit my head knocking me into a painful sleep.

----

Im standing, weary and then Im slammed down into a seat. A small white light shines above my head and down on the metal chair I was seated in. Infront of me as a tall white man with a lab coat, orange goggles and slicked back hair.

He had a pen, and a clipboard, but the light prevented me from seeing passed that, as if me and him were alone in the universe of white light. I blink rapidly and then focus on him as the man smiled evily.

In the light my dark skin appears lighter then normal, my brown eyes reflect amber in his large orange goggles.

I grasp the sides of my metal chair and narrow my eyes at the man. "What is your name ?" He asked firmly, peering down at his clipboard.

I shutter as I feel my voice press out without my approval, like a limb moving without your need for it to move, I replied with what sounded like no hesitation.

"Asryi 15 " I reply.
"How old are you ?" He asks.
Again with no control my voice replied. "Fifteen, I will be 16 next year" .
"What is your heritage ? Race ? Eye color ? Height ? And Religion of birth? ".
"African American, Irish, European, and I think Native American " I reply to the first part.
"I am brown, my eyes are brown, I am -...am -5'3 and I was born in sector 15 in Oregon " .

The man was silent, the buzzing of the lights making my eyes twitch. He was writing something on the paper attached to his clipboard.
"Do you know why you are here ?" He asks peering up at me.
"No" I say this time making it sound stubborn and snotty, despite the fact it was forced out of me.
"You are in the American Threat Protection Agency, or ATPA, this is the smallest and yet the most powerful agency of America and you have been chosen to help it take down a group called the Elites ".

I stayed silent taking this in with a reeling mind. I was confused, and then I recalled my age and sector and family.
"But Im 15, and from sector 15 " .
"Precisely" Was all he said before the lights shut off and I was left in darkness.