The Fear Of God

Chapter 2: The Taking

I cannot contemplate why or how it happened. Never had this happened before to me. Had Hidaa truly heard my thoughts and had punished me for my ignorance. Was the strange actions of the needle and the metal surface all a hallucination so that my brain could determine an unexplainable sensation. More importantly, what had made me suddenly feel these strange feelings of hate and fear towards something I had known since I was a small toddler staring up at that statue. It was sudden, it was strange, but as ashamed as I was to consider it, it felt good.

I slowly lifted my eye lids to the faint sound of deep weeping from next door. I lifted my head to find myself in my bed, the delicate purity of the white sheets bringing my mind back to reality. I was in my creamy and flower-patterned pyjamas as I drew away the sheets. My feet touched the cold marble floor whose patterns seemed to flow like streams of dew in the dark. As my still slightly spinning mind entered a yellowy tinged lamp lit room with bare white walls, I could see my father sitting on a stool in the middle of the room. His blazer had been taken of and his black tie hung heavily around his neck as he sat weeping.

"Papa?" I faintly whispered. "What happed Papa?". He quickly looked at me, his face streaming with tears and his lips shuddering. I slowly walked over to him, only listening to the faint, water drop tap of my feet on the cold, white floor. As soon as I came into reach he suddenly reached out and wrapped his arms around me, squeezing me as if to never let go.

"No, I can't- I won't... I won't let you go through- never- never again." My Papa seemed so frightened that his words could barely be heard as he buried his head deep into my shoulder. I embraced him as his shaking fear seemed to seep itself into my blood and run around my neck. I clutched him with no desire to leave him and I began to shake at his own fear. As we clutched each other, I could hear the faint noise of a ding coming from the clock in the kitchen. The ding seemed so relaxed and fluent in its tune that I could feel my Papa rock to the sound of it. However, the embrace was soon dismantled when my Papa realised what the noise was. 

He quickly opened his eyes and swung around his head. I could hear his heart start to race and almost budge in his chest.

"No...NO! I won't let them take you!" My Papa shrieked to the top of his voice and rushed to the huge wooden door situated behind me. He stopped and ever so slowly put his hand around the golden handle then twist and slowly open the door. Violently, he slammed the door shut and pressed his whole body up to it. Sweat poured from his brow as he stammered, "no...no!".

He sprinted up to me and took me by the hand. Pulling me with all of his force, my Papa threw open the doors of my room and pushed me inside to the floor, slamming the doors behind me. As I quickly climbed to my feet I heard my Papa shout through the wooden door, "What ever you do, don't come out! Don't come out!".

Suddenly with a loud crash I could hear a heavy force pounding against the front door. I bent down and squinted to look through the key hole. I could see my Papa in front of me in his white shirt and black leather trousers, brandishing a candle holder in both hands, waiting, guarding. A low , muffled voice projected through the door "Mr Lena, its time". 

My Papa quivered, but reluctantly shouted "No, never again!". There was a pause, silence that crept across the walls into my mind. Then, a bang erupted from the door. I could see the door, shuddering, being pounded on from the other side. With a final, gigantic bash the door flew open. From the darkness outside, four figures emerged sprinting through the front door. All dressed in black, with thick body armour.  The soldiers entered with batons and guns with black leather masks attached to their faces. Through the door I could hear a loud siren whining as if for an air raid that crashed into my ears and caused a loud relentless drum beat in my head. The soldiers ran to my Papa, catch the candle holder in his hand and tackling his arms as he swung at them.

The other two soldiers looked around the room and raced towards my bedroom door. My breath was uncatchable as I suddenly crawled away from my bedroom door and scrambled to my feet to find somewhere to hide. I cleared just in time to watch the door burst open with the two men running inside and quickly fixing their eyes on me. I stared at them, my hands shaking, my feet tingling with the urge to run. I darted to the side of the two men to race to the other side of my bedroom. However, I felt a gloved hand wrench out and grab my arm, quickly pulling me into both men. I struggled as I could feel their hand clasping my arms, wrapping around my shoulders. I pulled and screamed, a hand pulling on my hair to find a way to control me. Despite my efforts to resist, I was dragged into the sitting room, kicking and screaming. I entered to find the two other soldiers holding down my Papa, who had had all the energy drained out of him. He could no longer fight and could only watch as I was dragged out of my room. As I could hear him huff out my name with tiredness, which pulled tears from my eyes, I screamed back to him.

In fury I slashed and screamed as I was pulled out of my house to await a nightmare that was reality. I was pulled out into a chaotic world where I could see rows of houses the same to mine, all white circular buildings with a rectangular balcony and big glass windows. The sky was black as if a void had eat away the blue. Stars had been stolen by a black concrete like texture that could be seen through the blackness, cracked and crippled. Around the houses my shock turned to the huge, metamorphic solid walls that in cased them, miles high and miles apart. The wall stretched down as far as the eye could see. To my horror, on either side of me I could see children. Children the same age as me, crying, screaming, struggle and all being dragged away from their homes. To the left and right, I could see they were all girls being dragged along by the same soldiers, similar dressed men could be seen being pinned down, screaming out to their children. As I looked back to my house, I could see my father being cuffed and brought to his feet, I placed my feet steadily on the ground that moved beneath me and with all of the weight I pulled away from my captors. With my fury, my hatred and utter anger I pulled the soldiers who I could hear huffing as they struggled to keep hold of me. However, my strength soon evaporated as the soldiers regained their grip held. With a sharp movement, he swung his button that smashed into my stomach, sickness overcoming my will. Behind me I could see several, long, silver vehicle with long horizontal poles attached to the centre with clamps on either side. All the children including myself were dragged onto the vehicles that were all attached to greyish brown and dark green trucks. Like all of the other kicking and screaming children, I was held at the silver poles and my hands were clamped together in the metal cuffs. I looked around watching them cry in fear. I could see in our familiar homes all of our Papas were being hurried out. The screams for Papas continued as in all of my love I turned to getting myself free. With no use, all that could be done was to stare at the line of Papas that formed in front of us near the house. I could see my own Papa bleeding from the lower lip that was bruised with an ebony patch.

The whining sirens faded as the children's screams erupted by all corners of my view. To everyone's shock and fright, a loud gunshot suddenly blasted off in the distance. In silence, I turned around to see marching out of the blackness of the night and lines of soldiers heavily dressed and bearing a long revolver. In front of them stood a huge, serious looking man in a green track suit and a sharp, small hat. His glum face glared at me as they marched through us and stopped some meters away from our Papas. I could hear stuttering from the children next to me along with struggling with our metal bounds. The green suited man marched in front of the soldiers, turned swiftly and stared ahead, full of pride and a lack of anything else human.

"Attention!". The pound of soldier's feet could be heard in the floor, along with the movement of the soldiers clanking rifles.

"188 prisoners to be executed on the charge of pursuing religious study of Hidaa!", shouting and cursing could be heard echoing throughout the line of children. My breath sped up and I began to tug at my cuffs, whilst in pure hatred I stared at the shouting soldier, who formed a sly smirk on the edge of his mouth.

"Ready!" shouted the soldier, holding up his whip in the air as the clank of guns could once again be heard.

"Aim!", the guns pointed at the row of men in front of them. My Papa stared at me, sobbing desperately. My breath was controllable as I tugged more and more.

"FIRE!" Gun shot rained down. Blood blasted into the midnight air. Bodies dropped like puppets. Children screamed in horror. The soldiers gun fire continued, children continued to scream...and then, it was silent. Smoke drifted into the air silently and wistfully created curls and spiral of what once had been a pure and soft life. This was the death of my Papa, and the birth of my hate. 

-The Taking is complete, please stand by for The Separating-