Remember

I slowly open my eyes. Everything's a blur. I slowly sit upright, rubbing my head.

"Wh.. where am I?"

Something warm oozes along my fingertips. I can feel it drip down my neck. It trickles along my shoulder, staining my clothes, the smell of copper and alcohol wipes burn my nose. I look down to see I'm in a gown, a red-stained, itchy gown. Then, I remember.

They came barging into our house with guns. Big guns painted black, like the night sky. My mother grabbed my sister and ran in fear, but they shot them both, red spilling everywhere. Their screams sounded like a siren. My father stood up to protect me, arms spread out, ready to attack, but they shot him too, red staining the floor. They grabbed me by my arms, their hands feeling rough and cold against my skin, twisting my wrists, pulling my hair. Pain was swelling throughout my body, small tears forming in my eyes. I knew there was no point in struggling. I've seen what happens when you do. So I did nothing. There was no point in fighting. I fall to the ground as they drag me by my feet. I feel the hot, dry sand against my hair. The cold heavy handcuffs scratch my back, leaving a tiny trail of blood behind me. I surrendered myself showing no fear, but deep down, I was traumatized, hurt, and scared.

I wipe my tears from my eyes and sigh. I look down and see wires. Wires were in my arm, connected to a machine. All of my fear and anger locked down inside of me wanted to rip them out of my skin. Tear them apart to shreds. But I knew that would only cause trouble. Trouble is the one thing you don't want here. My brother taught me that. He used to work at the space station, wiring kids up to big machines, sending them to the moon, and watch them die. He hated his job, but he did what had to be done. He came home crying one day, talking about a little girl, named Becky. He said her laugh was the cutest thing on earth, and her smile was warmer than a thousand suns. She said she was going to fly on the moon, and smell flowers, and eat candy all day. That was when my brother had it. He was done killing a poor innocent child every year, he was fed up with it. He went to work the next day and told the little girl he was going to set her free. He ripped the wires out of her arm, but she only screamed in pain, causing alarms to blare. So he ran. He ran as far away as he could. He made it past the parking lot and was shot. My mother cried for days, my father prayed twice every night, and my sister still asks where big brother is. From that day forward, we hid in fear. We knew they would come for me next. For there next experiment. We just never saw it coming.

The rocket, that's where I was going next. They are going to send to the moon, and make me try to survive. They film it, for research, the learn about how the human body adapts. After the child dies, they send in a new one, once every year. They air it on TV all, day, long. On channel 12, 8 a.m- 9 p.m. I knew there was no escape, they implanted a tracker in my head for God's sake. There was no point in trying, I'll die either way. I lean my feet over the bed and watch them dangle back and forth. I look out the window and see a tiny tree blowing in the breeze. It reminded me of our tree, the one we planted. The one they tore down.

My father said he had a surprise for us. A special surprise. He told us to close our eyes and open them when we heard the magic word. My sister was giggling, peeking through her fingers. I had to cover her eyes for her. My father then spoke.

"Open sesame!"

We all opened our eyes to see a skinny branch in a pot, with tiny green things poking out.

"Papa, what is that?" my sister asked, tilting her head.

He smiled and responded with pride.

"This is a tree! Trees don't grow in hot weather, like where we are, so we got a special tree, one that can survive the heat!"

My brother took a deep breath and asked father,

"Did you buy it? Or steal it?"

My father ignored his question and walked to our backyard. We took time and effort into digging the perfect hole for our perfect tree. Father explained to us everything we needed to know. Water it twice a day, and make sure it has shade, but not too much, but not too little. The tiny little tree grew and grew, every year, it got taller and taller. My sister and I were proud of the hard work we put into our tree. My mother wouldn't stop smiling every time she saw us working together to keep our tree growing. My brother pitched in sometimes, but my father was proud. Proud of seeing his children growing up, like the tree we planted as a family. Until the government tore it down. All our hard work, destroyed. My father was given a fine of $500. Clearly, trees were only allowed to be planted in the city. We watched as they burned our tree, along with our happiness.

They always took our happiness, it was their job. I walk toward the window and place my hand on the glass. My breathing fogged my view, but there was no point in wiping it away. I close my eyes, and finally, let my tears fall. My mother, dead. Father, dead. Sister, dead. Brother, dead. My family was gone. All because of a stupid rocket to send me to my death. I bang on the glass, angry with myself. Angry with every human being on this planet. I fall to the ground sobbing. I cuss every swear word known to humankind, letting all my anger and hatred out. I take a deep breath and cry some more until I have no tears left to cry. I sit back on the bed and close my eyes, wanting this to all be over. I hear the door open, then slowly close. A low female voice then quietly talks. "Emma lets go before they find you," I look up, it's my mother.