• She turned the pages in a yellowing book. The binding was coming off, some of the pages were barely attached, it had water stains in it, but it was her favorite. Sighing, she put it back on the shelf for the fifth time this month.

    She had decided to tally how many times she read it three years ago. So far, she had one thousand, forty-nine tallies. Walking to the window, she rested her elbows on the sill and gazed at the stars. Wishing she could go outside, she watched the soldiers patrol the streets. The made sure that no one broke curfew. She hated to think what happened to those who did.

    Bringing out a worn out notebook, she flipped through and read some things. Finally, she wrote a full page down in the worn out papers. Placing the thick spiral with a collection of others, all worn and written in.

    Staring up at her ceiling, when the lamp hit certain places just right, you could see gold sparkles in the purple. She remembered painting the ceiling, and how she had thrown up the crystals onto the wet paint while jumping on her bed. She had taken hours to paint the silver designs on the wall. The swirls and splatters of paint in odd places made the room look elegant and pretty.

    But tonight something else was on her mind. Lately people had disappeared with out notice or a clue to who had taken them. The most recent person was Ms. Hallow, the widow next door. Climbing into her queen size bed, she settled into a comfortable position and drifted off to sleep.

    That night, she dreamt of chilling screams for help, but when she would get close enough to see who ever was screaming, it would move farther away. She was woken suddenly by a noise down stairs. Suddenly, her mothers piercing scream cut through the air.

    Jumping from bed and running down the hall, she stood and looked over the foyer. Two men dragged her mother from her parent’s room. Moments later, more men came dragging her unconscious father. “Papa!” she screamed. Looking up, the men saw her on the balcony and some ran after her leaving the rest to drag her father outside.

    Before she could get half way to her room, she felt some one grab her from behind and lift her off the ground. Clamping her mouth around the nearest body part she could, she bit into the man, drawing blood in some places. The taste of his blood filled her mouth and she spit to relieve herself of the iron like taste.

    When the man dropped her, another was there to pick her up in his place. She felt some thing hit her on the back of the head and tried to fight the in coming darkness, but to no avail. The last thing she remembered was being dropped over the railing of the second floor balcony.