Capture

Chapter 1: How the World Changed

Chapter 1: How the World Changed

Since the beginning of the takeover, everything that once stood for normalcy was gone, destroyed to prove their power, the beasts. Then they took Mom.

It has only been a few months, but it is still different getting up in the morning and going to bed without ever seeing the sun.  From what I could see in the dark, we were paling. Dad had brought one flashlight with us which we used sparingly. We lived off the supplies that Dad had saved and what we could steal from nearby homes when nobody was there.

 We had hollowed out the underside of the house when the announcements started, what was once the crawlspace. Dirt in every direction, we didn't have much space. Just enough to stand and sleep. Dad had lined the ground with blankets that we used to use for picnic and soccer games. The heat from the house above was little help in the winter. Dad caved and eventually produced a heater that we attached to the electricity of the house, but we all knew that it was a temporary fix for the problem. I didn't say anything, but we were all thinking it; soon the power would turn off when the bills weren't get paid.

When I was in the eight grade I had to read Anne Frank's diary for an assignment. I never thought that I would be ever in a similar situation; hidden in a familiar location, trying to keep silent and survive. I didn't know how long we could stay in our hiding spot. Our only hope for complete long-term safety was to find the human colonies, but there were just whispers about their existence.

At the time I was safe, but the real danger had only just begun.

Something dropped near my feet. It made a "thunk" sound when it landed and bounced a little away from where I was curled up on a stack of blankets, playing cards with Emilee. We looked to each other and back to the small cylinder.

"Dad? What- ", Emilee got out just as a piecing light illuminated the crawlspace.

White, blinding light like looking straight at the sun but a million times over. I screamed as it singed my corneas and pressed my hands to my eyelids.

"Run!", Dad cried out from somewhere far away from us.

I scrambled to stand up. I could feel Emilee against me trying to do the same while blind. My hands scratched up the dirt walls. Distorted shapes swam in my vision when I tried to search for our dad.

I could no longer feel Emilee hands clutching onto my sweatshirt as they had seconds before. Something snagged on my sleeve and when I tried to pull away, an unfamiliar hand clamped down on my bicep. A very large hand, not belonging to my father.