The Where House

Ricky

Back home my mom has new clothes laid out for me on my bed. A peace offering. Still mad at her and now Spencer I grudgingly leave them where they are and stuff some old clothes into a bag. I grab a toothbrush and a few hair ties too, that's it. What else is there to bring. My sister's come in and look through the clothes on my bed picking and choosing what they think looks good on them. I'm the youngest of my sisters and the only one who's going to camp. Which is probably why my mother was so quick to write down my name and send it off.
                   •••••
There's a heavy knock on my door and my mom starts crying again before even opening the door. I roll my eyes and grab my bag. My sisters let in two men in suits. Ones tall and lean while the other is almost and exact opposite, not standing more than 5'6.
"Hi Rachel" the shorter one says

I cringe at the name but don't bother correcting.

"If you'll come with us please" the taller one speaks this time, with surprisingly much less bass in his voice.

I follow the men outside without bothering to say goodbye to my family. There's a black van with tinted windows waiting for me. The shorter one slides open the door and I climb in. There are three other kids that seem to be my age. There are two redhead girls that I assume are sisters, a blond boy, and another girl with bright purple hair. I look in the very back of the van and there are two men in helmets holding some sort of weapon. They're pointed right at us, as if they expect us to do something. One of them notices me starting and wiggles their gun. Startled, I quickly turn around. The blond boy laughs at me and starts halfway rolls down his window.
"Roll it up" the driver commands without emotion

"c'mon bro its at least 90
degrees in here" he whines

"Roll it up" the guard repeats himself without a change in tone

"dude its hot"

The blonde kid rolls down his window a little more and sticks his head out the window. The driver adjust his mirror and looks back at the guards. He nods. The guard directly behind the blond kid takes the butt of his gun and forces it into the back of his head. He falls and hits his head on the edge of the remaining window. The guard sits back down and crossed his leg. The driver looks at me through the mirror.
"Roll it up" he says, still monotone
Without hesitation I reach over the blond kids limp body and roll up the widnow.
It's stained with his blood