She stared at the ceiling. She watched as the colours swirled and disappeared, then reappeared without warning. It was like this every night, the same dream, over and over again. She always woke a little further on in the dream than last time. It disturbed her, the things that she was seeing. There were people with powers getting chased by people with guns. It was like Harry Potter crossed with GI Joe. She could see the dark eyes of the shooters, as they shot down the others. There was no mercy. She was forced to watch as one man shot another in the back. She saw the blood spray out from him as he collapsed in a heap. The shooter didn’t stop, he just moved on to the next victim as blood started to pool around the body of the man. These was not the dreams of a 12 year old girl, these were the dreams of a madman. She turned over trying to get back to sleep. But no sleep came. It never did come. So as the sun rose from the horizon, the bags were already present under her eyes and Stella rose for another normal day. But this day was going to be anything but normal.
I was woken by a red flashing light. The last thing I remembered was climbing into the helicopter. I tried to stand, but stumbled and fell back on to the bed. I rubbed my pounding head. Where was I? With the little illumination that the light gave off, I could see four walls and a door. I managed to get to my feet and stumbled towards the door. I tried to turn the handle but it was locked. Why was I locked in? I had been saved from that awful place, just to be locked up again. This cell had even less. There were four concrete walls that were as cold as ice and a small bed in the centre of the room. The door was made of steel, too strong to penetrate. Why? Why was I locked up? I thought I was safe, I had gotten out. Had I somehow been captured again? I continually turned the thoughts over in my mind, but one answer kept coming up. What if I wasn’t being saved from that building, what if I was being stolen? What if there was no-one that wanted to help me?
Stella was sitting at her desk when it happened. There was no warning, the windows just smashed inwards and the door was torn off its hinges. Everyone dropped to the floor. Armed people in khaki uniforms came in waving guns around and checking faces. One got to her. The woman looked into her face. “Here” she called to the others. They crowded around murmuring “that’s her” and “she’s the one”. Her friends started crying out her name as she was dragged kicking and screaming out the classroom door. Stella was thrown into the back of a van. She felt something sharp pierce the skin near her neck before she blacked out.
The girl was thrown into the cell in my second hour. She looked scared, that’s probably how I looked. She didn’t speak for the first hour, in fact, she was completely silent. Then the sobbing began, which then turned into crying and then into screaming. She was a lot younger than me, maybe 2 or 3 years and had pale skin, beautiful blonde hair that flowed down her back and bright blue eyes. She was sitting in the corner, near the door. Why was she here? More still, how was I going to escape? I sat down, running through the events of the previous day. Was it even the next day? I may only have been out for a few hours. But that wasn’t important. Something was missing, something important. It hit me, the hard drive was gone. I, once again, was trapped with no lead.