I was in a house. I don't remember whose house or why but I peered around, a small girl ran into the room, shortly followed by a boy who looked almost identical to her. When I looked closer I realised that I was the small girl. That must be my brother.

"James, that's not fair! You're taller!" Younger me exclaimed as James lifted the toy aeroplane above my head.

"Come and get it Brooke!"

We ran around chasing the aeroplane for a couple of minutes before a women crashes into the room looking around frantically.

"Brooke! James! You need to hide now!" She made her way to the bed pulling up the sheet and ushering us underneath it.

"Why Mum? What's going on?" James asked. Being older by a couple of hours James felt responsible for me and made sure I went under the bed first, hidden from sight.

"Don't worry about it sweethearts. It is very important that you stay quiet and don't make a single sound. Daddy and I love you okay? Remember that." She kept peering to the door, expecting someone to walk in at any moment. I was starting to get worried as mum took my face in her hands and kissed the top of my head, she then took her pinkie finger and held it out in front of me where I mirrored the gesture, joining our fingers together. This was our sign we had, it calmed us both as I disappeared under the bed making sure I could still see.

Moments later Dad came in with a gun pointed to his head, closely followed by men in uniform with 'W.C.K.D' printed across them. I tried to hold in a gasp as James squeezed my hand. I looked over to him, tears starting to fall down my face, his finger was pressed against his mouth signalling me to be quiet.

"Leave us alone," my mum said her voice filled with anger. She slapped the man who seemed to be in charge but got pushed to the ground for retaliating.

"Now, now Carol. Is that the way to greet an old friend?" The man responded, a sly smirk appearing on his face.

"You are no friend of ours Janson," my father said, gritting his teeth in anger.

"Oh would you look at that? David spoke when I clearly told him not to. Do you know what we do with cranks when they don't behave? Do you know Carol?" He said addressing my mother, who was being held to the ground with his strong wrist.

"We kill them." A loud bang was heard throughout the room and my father fell to the ground, blood staining the carpet.

I gasped making more noise than I expected, earning a hard glare from James.

"What was that?" Janson asked. "Oh I almost forgot, your lovely children. Where are they Caroline?"

"You leave them out of this!" My mother screamed earning other hit to the head, tears now streaming down her face.

"Search the room," he ordered sending the guards looking in wardrobes and behind doors. We were found minutes later and dragged out from under the bed.

"I'm sorry mum," I wept as a guard pushed me to my knees. I earned a slap for talking, causing the side of my face to scream in pain.

"It's alright sweetie, everything's okay," she reassured.

Janson came over to us and scanned us with a peculiar looking machine. He looked shocked when it turned green and he took a step back in surprise.

"They're immune."

I was getting more and more confused by the second. Immune from what?

"Take them to the headquarters, we can use them for testing." Janson said in a gruff voice.

"No!" My mother screamed, but was silenced by a bang. I dared to look around and what I saw haunted my mind. My mum and dad were lying on the floor, blood pouring from their heads, not moving an inch.

I could feel someone shaking me awake, shouting my name.

"Brooklyn! Wake up, Brooke!"

I couldn't identify the voice, all I could see was the face of the man that killed my parents. I was shaking and tears were escaping my eyes, unable to stop.

"Brooke it was just a dream," the voice I now recognised as Newt said, trying to get me back to reality. I was now aware of my surroundings and looked at his face but the tears were still falling down my face at the speed of a waterfall.

I fall into Newts arms, shaking violently with sobs.

"Shh," Newt soothed, running his hand through my hair. I try to tell him what happened but I couldn't form the words.

"He…killed…them."

Newt's puzzled face looked at mine with worry, his hand still caressing my head.

"Killed who?" he asked.

"The man…the bad man. He killed my parents." More sobs escaped from my body as I told him this information.

"He killed them right in front of me," I gasped. "And I couldn't do anything to stop it. I don't even know why."

"Brooke look at me alright?" Newt whispered holding my head in his hands, just like my mother did. "He's not here anymore, he can't hurt you."

Alby and Minho ran into the room after hearing my screams.

"What's going on?" Alby asked, a plank of wood in his hand.

"Just a nightmare, we're alright." Newt said, his hands now rubbing circles on my back. The tears were still streaming down my face but I had stopped shaking and was returning to a normal state.

"Why the shuck is she in your bed man?" Minho asked still half asleep.

"She couldn't sleep so came in here then she had a bloody nightmare," he replied.

"Whatever I'm going back to bed," Minho replied walking into the door as he left the room, followed by Alby.

"Are you okay?" Newt asked me.

"No," I replied in a hushed whisper. We laid down on Newt's bed again as he wrapped an arm around me protectively.

"Don't worry, I won't let anyone hurt you," he said sleepily as he drifted off to sleep once more.

And as I tried to let the blackness take me once more, I thought about the man and I decided one thing. I hated that man Janson and whatever place he was from with the W.C.K.D symbols, I hated him so much it hurt.

Hello! So here's the next chapter, learning about Brooklyn's past and why she hates Wicked. I have exams at the moment so if my updates aren't that frequent I'm sorry! I will try in the next week or so, but I promise I am not leaving this story.

Thank you for reading and if you have any ideas of how you want the story to go, leave a review! I have only written the next chapter so the story line is open to any ideas.