I have seen many more horrors than you can fathom.
The first of many, I guess you might say, occurred when I was six. I was taken from my parents.
It was a smidge past 3 am, and all was quiet. I was sleeping, as were my parents. The tapping of the rain against my window pane lulled me further into slumber. I lie dreaming of whatever 6 year olds dream of.
When suddenly, my peaceful sleep was interrupted by two large calloused hands. They grabbed me, one seized me by the abdomen and the other covered my mouth to stifle my cries. My eyes shot open in shock. I looked around panicked, hoping for an explanation. But all my little eyes saw was the big busty man who had hoisted me into his arms. I waved my hands and kicked about but this didn’t seem to faze him. It was if he was made of stone. I bit his hand as hard as I could until I could taste his blood in my mouth, but to no avail, his grip did not lessen.
Tears streamed down my cheeks as I looked around at the familiar surroundings of my living room. Finally the man let go of me, but only quick enough to slap a piece of duct tape to my mouth and tie me to a chair. I rocked the chair back and forth. Attempting to shout and scream for my parents, but they turned out to only be muffled little noises.
“Got the kid,” The man said gruffly to two other big men.
I looked over to see that they were carrying my parents. They had been bound by the wrists and ankles and duct taped all the way around their heads so they couldn’t take it off. My mother looked me in the eyes with the most horrified face. She could not hold back her tears. Neither could my father who looked at the men around us with hatred.
I wasn’t sure who these people were or what they wanted. But they had scared my father who was always so strong. I had never seen him cry once before. That was when I was really scared. Seeing my parents in that state was unnerving.
I heard big footsteps thud down the hallway and out of the corridor stepped the biggest man out of them all. His muscles flexed when he moved his arm to itch his nose. The muscles themselves were huge, almost unreal. He was so tall, too. He looked about 6’3” and his face was menacing and unforgiving. He slowly walked and looked down upon me.
He smiled a hideous smile. I looked back up with puppy dog eyes that said everything they needed to.
As if responding to a question he said, “You’ll be alright little Speranza,”
He had addressed me, he knew my name! I was further more in shock. I did not know this man, yet he knew me!
He turned to the three other men.
“Open your briefcases and inject the serum into Speranza’s parents’ wrists. This was specifically designed to extract the memory of Speranza out of their brains, and in the morning, they will no longer know she exists,” He said with obvious dominance.
Being a very smart child, I was aware of the situation.
I screamed even harder under my mask of duct tape. My father watched as I struggled. He looked at me, and that’s all it took. He couldn’t speak, and he didn’t need to. In fact just by looking into his eyes, I knew it was all over. I nodded.
Realizing their fate, I stopped struggling, and stopped screaming.
The two men who had carried my parents did as they were told. They opened their silver briefcases and took out a long needle and flicked it ever-so dramatically. The green liquid sloshed about on the inside.
I sat silently crying in my chair as they got closer to my parents arms with the huge needle. I felt a large hand stroke my brown hair as if to calm me.
“If you’d just cooperate, everything would go according to plan,” The man said with his radio talk show voice.
This wasn’t a plan! The plan was to wake up the next morning and live life! Not to be stripped from the only home I had ever known.
I couldn’t take the desperation any more and began thrashing about once again.
More tears. More screams.
The man kneeled to my level and slapped me.
“Shut up! We don’t want to wake the neighbors, now do we?” He didn’t have to yell for me to listen. My left cheek began throbbing where he had hit me. My crying was silent now. Tears quietly fell down my cheeks as I watched them inject the vicious liquid into my parent’s arms.
Soon enough, I was getting injected with the green liquid.
I have never seen my parents since that night.
The last thing I remember seeing is the men take my picture off of the fridge.
These men were quick, they had a plan. They weren’t to be hampered nor defeated.
They were mighty and strong! Oh, so strong!
But even as the little six year old I was, I had decided I would lead a life devoted to stopping that. They cannot keep me and the other children from our parents. Sure enough my own parents would remember me if they were to see me again.
Soon my day will come, my window of opportunity.
Once the day comes, I will not let that opportunity go unsung.