It all started out so normal, well as about as normal as it could get. My mother, Frannie, my younger sister, Faisha, and I were having bagels with cream cheese smeared thickly across the toasted bread. It was eight thirty am on a Sunday. The Sun shone brightly through the wispy white curtains. We sat in our cold, grey chairs at out grey table in our grey kitchen in our grey house. The only color in the room came from the fresh fruits and vegetables displayed on the steel counter. The bright red and even brighter green celery made the room feel more like home. The Sun seemed so much brighter than it has ever shone.
We each took our last bites. I wiped the crumbs from my grey jeans. Then everything went black.
“Mommy! Mommy, I can’t see anything!” Faisha frantically yelled.
“Felicia, honey, can you see?” My mother asked. I could hear her small hands tap across the table before they landed softly on top of my right hand.
"No, Ma. I can't see anything." I tried to keep a calm tone. My mind was anything but calm. What could they be doing now? They'll never leave us alone.
"Let us wait until we have further instruction. The man always knows what he is doing," my mother whispered.
We sat quietly, the silence grey as our surroundings. Then there was the clink clank of the back door unlocking and opening, then a slam. Faisha let out a startling shriek. Ma laid her gentle hand on my courser one and Faisha suddenly had gone mute. Heavy footsteps echoed throughout the room then we heard a chirp.
"Yeah, we got three in here." A deep, raspy voice said into the quiet room. There were more heavy steps, a cough. A cold substance slivered over my wrists, then hardened. "Alright. Up up up!" Three chairs scraped against the tile flooring. "Faster, you freakin’ feminists." The person said, kicking the chair from under me causing me to hit the ground. I scrambled up as fast as I could.
"Idiots, they are. Can never do what they are told," another voice, light and quick, said.
The cuffs around my wrist began pulling me away from the table. A cool breeze caressed my face and the sweet smell of grass. Rocks crunched under my feet, the cuffs vibrated and I stopped walking. I felt my family standing beside me. Faisha leaned against my side. The breeze suddenly kicked up into a heavy wind and I could hear the loud hum of an aircraft. A loud, roaring engine calmed to a loud purr. Just barely under the noise of the aircraft I could hear other feet crunching across the gravel pathway. They were little feet, big feet, even bigger feet. They all came to a stop behind my family. When the last pair got into position, the raspy voice started counting. At fifty, the cuffs vibrated and began leading again. The hum got louder and louder. The aircraft was once telling a secret, but now it yelled a truth. It was similar to the work my mother and I did with my younger sister. However, the truth seemed covered, smothered. It confused me as I proceeded up a ramp that went clank clank under my boots. I was lead to a stand. My cuffs connected instantly and wouldn’t move in any way. My mind became fuzzy. I could see all the marches, the protests, the speeches. I could see them all leaving me.
Then everything was grey. But it wasn't the same grey as our kitchen or our home or our bunker community.
Then everything was blacker.
When I woke up, I was met with a blinding white light. I didn't know where I was but at least I had my senses back. I sat up and was met by a very uneasy feeling. The room was cramped and white. It was bright and sparsely furnished. There was a bed, a sink, and a toilet. It resembled the jail cell I had been in once before. I was totally alone in the room. There was a solid white door and on the opposite wall was a small port. There was complete darkness outside. Where am I?