Zach kissed me on the cheek before he left to tell the others I would be joining the rebellion. I went into the nursery quickly because Dakota was crying. Her diaper was wet so I quickly changed it. I wondered what the rebellion would be like. Then, I suddenly wondered if they, the government, could hear my thoughts. How strange that would have been. Well, I thought, If they could hear what I was saying, they would have killed me already. Death was something that I was more wiling to face than others. Sure, I was only 17 and I had a child, but I wasn't scared of Death. Death seemed like a nice person that would eventually tap me on the shoulder and let me see the truth. That is, I realized, it they didn't torture me first. It didn't seem above the people that disowned me from my family and their grandchild. The government that forces teens to love one another with the threat of a painful demise above them every second.
Then, I thought of what Dakota's birth mother. Divorce was allowed, but if you did divorce, you had to become a birthmother. This was possibly the worst job. You had to produce at least one child every year of you would be killed. Once you could no longer produce children, you would also be killed. However, these punishment were not the worst. The worst thing was not knowing anything about your child. They only told you it's name. I wondered if they remembered all of their children's names. Recited them each night in hopes that maybe one day they would listen. Some women were birth mothers for 20 years. 20 children walking around. Finally, I wondered of my own birthmother. I wondered if she even remembered my name. Anna, I imagined her saying as she prepared to sleep, Anna. Maybe this was true love. I remembered something, but I can't remember what or who said it. Nothing is as strong as a mother's love. It seemed like a whisper. a faint memory. I placed Dakota back in her bed, and closed my eyes. A memory came flooding to me.
"She will be sent to Britain," said a deep voice,
"It's better than living here. The plane will be here any moment," said a woman's voice,
"I hope there's not another bombing."
"There won't be." The image was blurry and the two people were cover in a white film over my vision. The woman reached down and ran her fingers through my thin hair, "I am your mother--,"
"She won't remember this, Mary Ann."
"But what if she does? Remember, Anna, remember this moment with all your heart." She offered me her finger, and I held it tightly.
I had just seen my mother. My father. But how? the day came to a close a Zach didn't' return. That day stretched into many others, and those days stretched into weeks. Finally, someone knocked on the door, but it wasn't Zach. A man. He was old - very old,
"I am your dad," he said to me, "You have to run away with me. The bombers are coming. You have to come to America - or what's left of it." I believed him. I felt like I was in a dream. I bad dream and a good dream. I put some clothes in an old backpack along with some food for Dakota, and wrapped her tightly in two blanket along with about 10 diapers which I stuffed into my pocket, "You have a baby?" He asked. I nodded briskly, "God, I've missed so much." Then we were on our way. I knew then that there was no chance of me ever seeing Zachary again. There was a small plane which an old woman, my mother was driving. She smiled and I climbed into the back. I looked down at Dakota who was crying. Then I saw government officials running toward me, but the engine had started. The shot once, twice, and then we were too far away,
"Your daddy's dead," I said to Dakota with tears in my eyes. He screams and wails silenced and she just cried. We cried together as we headed to this new world. America.
Epilogue will be posted within the next three weeks. Sorry for any grammatical or spelling mistakes - I didn't have time to edit before I left for camp. I had so much fun writing this - thank you for your support, favorites, likes, and comments.