“Mama, can I lay in bed with you? I-I can’t sleep. Someone is coming.” 

“Of course, *****, come here.” My mother reassured. “I’m a little confused, though. Nothing is coming. We are safe here.” 

“She is coming. The Light is coming.” 

“Who is ‘She’? *****, there is no ‘She’.” She shushed, hugging me tight, trying to prevent Her from coming. Though, to no avail.

“She is coming. The Light is coming.” I repeated, for some strange reason I could not shake this feeling of incoming doom. This premonition that my family wouldn’t make it. The previous thought brought me to tears.

My mother tried to ignore my wails of The Light, but they were too loud, too much, too…odd. 

“She is coming. The light is coming.” I cried, “The light is coming! She will wipe us! The Light will cleanse our souls! She cleanses the Universe!” It felt like someone was controlling me, controlling my brain. I could barely think. I couldn’t even breathe. 

“****** *******! Quit that creepy shit right now before I- Shh! Someone is here, be as still as stone.” She whispered she getting up to wake my father, “Oton. Oton! Get up, the Servers are here.” I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the visions of death, focusing on my parents’ descending footsteps leading to the main area.

“Edma Vental-Adelair and Oton Imal Adelair, you are being subjected to judgment for kidnapping and harboring a ‘Moon Child’. Do not resist, resisting will only lead to death. Come quietly and She may show mercy.” A strange but distinct voice called out to my parents. I could hear his commanding voice all the way upstairs. Surely Zella was awake. If not, I shall wake her. If I do, then maybe she won’t suffer the same fate.

~~~

“Zella! What are you doing here? Go back upstairs to bed.” I heard my father whisper, footsteps creaked but never came closer to me.

 I was still in my parents room, eyes closed praying to the Stars that my vision does not come true. Something a child my age shouldn’t pray for. Items like dolls, mini cars, or Play Food would be more appropriate. ‘Toys’ humans call them, ‘Toys’… the word sounded strange on my tongue. Like a cat choking on a hairball. Or a spiky fruit bitten and swallowed whole; uncomfortable is what it felt like. That’s the word.

My mother’s loud cry cut off my train of thought. “Please! Not my daughter! Please, I can’t bear to lose her!” I could hear her rustling and kicking, sounding like she was tied up. It seems the strange man was threatening my parents in order to find me. Why me? I’m nothing but a child. I haven’t even had my first bottle of gender pills, nor gone to introductory school. 

I was just a little kid. A little kid when I heard the ‘BANG!’ A little kid when my ears filled with screams. A little kid when I raced down the creaky wooden steps with plenty of holes to make me trip. A little kid when I witnessed my whole family get slaughtered by five tall men. A little kid when I ran outside my house trying to escape, only to see all the homes on our street had been searched. Men were dragging children my age into carts stuffed like grain sacks. I was just a little kid when I was dragged by my hair and thrown into a cart, just like the other children. A little kid when I saw my family home for the last time.

I had cried myself to sleep that gruesome night. My dreams were filled with that guttural scream that couldn’t have possibly come from my mother. I only woke up the next day because of the bumpy road. Oh, how I hated bumpy roads. Every time we walked on one, I tripped and my sister would make fun of me, laughing until my father scooped me into his arms and carried me on his shoulders. Saying ‘Its okay *****, it’s just a minor scrape’, then my sister would get scolded by my mother; ‘Why would you laugh at your little sister? You know she is young. Youngs often make mistakes. Oh, how I wished my father was here now to comfort my aching head, my mother to scold the men who dragged me. Even Zella, to laugh at me and call me a crybaby. 

~~~

The memory and morning gave me confidence. I decided I wouldn’t stay another night. Today would be my first and final day in captivity. 

The blindfold made it impossible to see where I was, but we couldn’t be that far from my town as it took a long while just to leave it. “Excuse me sir,” I peeped, trying to sound young and weak in hopes of not being treated so cruelly. “What do you want, Pipsqueak?” A gruff voice responded impatiently. “I need to use it. I have lots of medical conditions and they cause me to use it a lot.” The lie came easily off my tongue, but still didn’t sound believable. Some kids even scoffed. “You need to ‘use it’? Aww poor little sickly child,” that same voice mocked, “You know what you can use?” As an answer to his puzzling question, the man slapped me. A hard slap that made my brain rattle, and my tongue bleed. Too rough for a child, knocking me out cold. If only I wasn’t a little kid, then maybe I could have escaped. Alas, I was; Just. A. Little. Kid.