I freeze as a blue robot walks up to me. Even though the halls are crowded with kids slamming their lockers shut and making their way to the door, so that they can get home and finish their homework and then go play with friends before dinner and the mandatory curfew that we, the lower, working-class, must follow, the robot still manages to make it to me. It hands me a note and then walks away. I open and scan the note. I go to my little sister’s classroom. She is standing at the window away from the other kids, staring out the window. I wave to my former teacher, my sister’s teacher now. I walk up to my sister and tell her that it’s time to go home. She nods and grabs her little blue school bag. We walk home, carefully picking our way across the rock covered path. When we get to the unit we live in, I see the car of government officials. I try not to tense for sister’s sake. I don’t want her to be scared but I feel her get closer to me and I know that she knows the danger of having a government official coming to our living unit. I get to the stairs and flinch as I hear the click of boots on hard stone. My sister goes ups the steps and looks back at me. I join her and then slowly open the door. A tall shadow is on the wall across from the living room. I send my sister to her room and go into the living room. My father and mother are on the couch and a tall man stares down at them. His blue and silver uniform hangs off his thin frame and his scarred hands dangle at his sides; my shoulders tense and I knock on the doorway. All eyes turn to me. My mother’s eyes are filled with tears; the eyes of my father are dark and angry; the man’s eyes are hateful and murderous.
“I’m home and Milinda is upstairs doing her homework,” I tell my mother and father after giving a slight bow to the official.
“Good,” My father says. He stands and the official’s hand goes to his waist. My mother’s tears slip from her eyes and she wipes them away with a tissue. My father pushes me away from the man. I bow to him and leave, knowing that’s what my father wants. I go up to my room and do my homework. When I’m done, I stare out the window. Suddenly my door bursts open and when I turn the man I saw in the living is in my room. His face is no longer calm and indifferent, but completely murderous and livid. I see my sister being dragged out of her bedroom by her hair. She is crying and her clothes are rumpled, telling me that she either resisted or something far worse. The man grabs me and starts to pull me but I slip from his grasp and walk on my own. They take us outside and line up the neighbors. They aim at my family, their guns glint in the low sunlight. I feel the gaze of my friends seering into my back. I meet the eyes of the people that are standing in front. I can see that they believe that we are innocent, but the government knows best. They bind our hands and step away. A shot rings out and my father falls. Next my mother. Then they shoot my sister, I look down, past my bound hands, as blood pours from my sister’s chest. Her once sparkling hazel eyes are like dull gems that remind nothing of my sister. I look up and meet the eyes of the shooter. He seems startled that I would dare to meet the eyes of my elder so openly, not the downcast gaze they are so used to. I snarl at him.
“Just get it over with already,” I snap. “All of you, are selfish, spoiled, cowardly, fiendish idiots that need to learn some manners.”
“You will go to hell for saying such things!” Cries the official.
“Then I’ll see you all down there,” I say. Four men shoot me. “Demons,” I say and then I blackout.
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