Run. It was the only word that coursed through my mind at the time. The word seemed to travel throughout my entire body, making my bare feet pound even faster on the pavement, and my heart beat like a bass drum inside my chest to the very tune at which my feet were striking the ground. The streets were almost empty, which was unusual, but given the time of day it was not unexpected. Only ten minutes before I had been sleeping soundly in bed with my sister when the men came through our door. They never said a word, and during the fight that ensued between the men and my father, I managed to slip out the open door. As I was running down the corridor, I heard the one sound that meant that my life would never be as it was before. A gunshot. Only one. Which meant that either my greatest love, my six year old sister, or the person I cared about most in this world, my father, was dead. I paused, but only for a second, before my body's instincts took over and told me to do the only thing I could: run.
I didn't know where I was going. I only ran. Weaving through the streets like a thief in the blackness of night. When I thought I was safe, I burst through a door to an apartment building on a street that I didn't recognize, got into an elevator I didn't know, and pressed a random button to a random floor. I figured, how could they find me if I didn't even know where I was myself? When I stepped out of the elevator, I started banging on the first door I saw. I knew that whoever they were, they wouldn't likely be awake at this hour of the night, so I thought to keep banging until someone opened up.
"Oh, shit," I heard someone, a woman, mumble on the other side of the door. "Just a minute!"
I heard shuffling, before finally the lock slid and the door opened. A very tall woman stood on the other side, black hair disheveled and pajamas wrinkled. I felt so horrible, waking her up like this.
"Please let me in, I need help. Please," I whimpered, wanting nothing else than to no longer be vulnerable to the dangers of the outside world. The woman looked around outside before ushering me in and shutting and locking the door behind her.
"What's your name? Are you lost?" she asked me.
"M-my name's Elena. I am lost, but not accidentally," I answered.
"On purpose? What, did you run away from home or something?"
"No, not from my family, at least. From the… bureau," It had just occurred to me that the woman who's door I had just about banged down could be working for them, or know and love someone who did. She bent down to my level, eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed, mouth slightly opened. I gulped. This was dangerous.
"You're a sibling." She said it not as a question, but as a statement. I bolted for the door, but a strong arm blocked my way. I screamed and kicked, fighting against the restraints that now held me with no hope.
When Nicolette Cayman came into power, she brought something with her that ruined the lives of so many people. It was her most precious creation, one that let her reign until there was nobody left who wanted to fight her. A law so powerful that nothing could stand in its path: the Child Allocation Act. One child per family. The earth was dying. That I understood, but Cayman was trying to save it at what expense? She didn't have children, she didn't understand what it meant to be a parent and to love as deeply as a mother or father loves their child. From raising my sister I only had a glimpse into what that love felt like, and even then I would want nothing more than death if anything happened to her. And Cayman was just ripping these children away from their families, into another reality that was far worse than the one we were living in now: cryosleep. The rumors surrounding it were horrifying. Going to sleep for years, maybe even hundreds of years, endless nightmares and no way to wake up, and when you do finally wake up, everyone you know and love is dead. Nobody should have to face that.
"Shh, shh, it's alright. I'm not going to hurt you. You're okay, you're safe." The woman pulled me into her and wrapped her arms around me. She was… hugging me? I turned around and looked up at her. She had tears in her eyes.
"C'mon, sweetheart. Sit down, I'll get the kettle on. How many sugars?" I blinked.
"One and a sprinkle," I said, the phrase rehearsed in my head like a record. I sat down on the old, worn down couch and started to look around for the first time. The apartment was strangely old-fashioned, unlike anything I'd ever seen before. Bookshelves covered the walls, arching up and over my head. The intricate designs flowed through the entire room. The furniture was all handcrafted, made by a delicate hand. The place was tidy, not a single thing out of place. A giant mirror stood on the wall opposite to me. I looked at my image, bony from years of malnourishment. My hair was thin, and my clothes were shabby even standing next to this woman's pajamas.
"Here." The woman handed me a cup of steaming tea, and sat down beside me. I held the warm cup in between my hands, letting the heat flow through my shaking fingers.
"Why are you helping me? You have no reason to," I said, looking up at the woman. She pursed her lips and sighed.
"If I show you something, you have to promise not to freak out. Can you do that for me, Elena?"
"Yeah, I guess so." To be honest, I was utterly confused. The woman got up and went over to a bookshelf, one close to the door. She shifted a couple books around before pressing a button that was previously hidden from my sight. I heard a grinding sound, before looking over in surprise as the mirror slid open. Another woman stepped out, followed by another, and another, and another. I sat bolt upright. I had never seen anything like this, or even read about it. My eyes settled on one after another before looking back at the woman who had greeted me. My eyes flashed between them. In front of me, standing in a line, were seven clones of the same person.