It all clicks, the disappearances, the new tests and formulas the schools and government have been giving out. Everything.
We are statistics, we are just numbers for someone's, I don't know who's, research. We are just experiments.
We are nothing.
My family didn't go missing, they didn't run off, they were taken. Right from under me.
I bend down and feel my fluids coming up. But I hold them in, tears are forcing there way out. I can't breathe.
I can't breathe.
And then Stefan's arms are around me, he's whispering things to me. But I can't hear any of it.
Someone has information on my family, they took them. They took my sister, they took my brother, they took my mother, my father.
But they won't take me.
It was all fun and games until our parents left.
Out of the blue they just disappeared.
4 years later there was still no sign of them, no contact, nothing.
I was helpless, I couldn't struggle, I couldn't scream. He came close to my face and kissed my cheeks, "You're mine now"
I was sexually assaulted.
If it wasn't for my two older brothers and their best friend, I wouldn't have got through it, I wouldn't have made it.
Then our house gets broken into and there was something so familiar about the man who broke in.
So we run.
There was so much blood, it was seeping out, covering my hands, covering my stomach.
Is this the beginning, of the end?