Aveera Langston

5 Years Ago...

I heard footsteps downstairs and my mom's voice. My dad died in the army years ago. I've learned to let go.

I slowly walked down the staircase of the creaky old stairs, purposely skipping the one that makes the loudest of noise.

The old farmhouse was eerily quiet. Last year my older brother got taken by the military. He got drafted. I remember bawling my eyes out. He was the only friend I had and now I have nobody but my mom.

We've always been on the down low. She wanted to keep me safe. I didn't particularly know why, though. Girls and women don't usually get drafted. Apparently the draft age dropped very low. You had to be thirteen and older to be drafted.

I am only twelve so I don't see why she's so scared or why she's yelling at the door.

I crouched down and peeked down the staircase where I had a clear view of the front door. There stood two men in their soldier uniforms with the little hawk pin, representing Civin.

"Ma'am, step aside. You do it the hard way or the easy way. We need to search the house for any sign of a draft," one of the men said with a gruff voice. We live in the center of Vernicus but I know that the army is stationed all over the country.

My brother could be out there somewhere. Or dead. That was the likely option.

"I told you! I have no child of age or a son here anymore! You already took him from me," she cried.

The men pushed past her into the house, and I could see a stagecoach waiting outback bearing the Civin military flag with two, large black Percherons attached to it. I couldn't see past that though.

When one of the men approached the staircase, I hurriedly scurried upstairs to my small little room. My brothers vacant room was across from mine with the door shut. I slipped into my room and very quietly shut the door. I dragged my little wooden chair to it and slid it under the door handle as a lock.

I huddled in the corner of the room, my back to the wall and my knees drawn to my chest as I muffled my breathing with a palm over my mouth. I didn't want to leave. But if they did find me, I wouldn't, right?

I heard the large footsteps of one of the men approach near my room. But first, I heard my brothers room across from mine open and then close shortly after.

Making an impulse decision, I stepped up onto the little bedside table I had, balancing. I reached for the low beams at the ceiling of my room, not able to reach it. So I jumped. I jumped up and grabbed hold of the beam that I clung onto for dear life.

I was hanging over the floor while I held onto the beam that creaked. I managed to get my leg up which helped me pull myself up just as the door handle of mine started jiggling. "Hey! This door is locked, I think someone is in here," the man's deep voice boomed from outside the door.

I didn't hear my mom, though. Only the approaching footsteps of another man. I slithered my way up on the beam, trying to hide the sides of my body over it as I put my palm over my mouth to try and muffle my heavy breathing.

I could feel and hear my pounding heart and thought it may just explode out of my chest. Then, with such force, the door pounded open and my wooden chair fell back and slid across the scuffed up floor as the door flew open.

Two large men stood in the doorway then came in. "You search here. I'll check downstairs once more," the man with a freshly shaved beard said. The other nodded and walked in.

His hair and beard had streaks of gray that intertwined with the brown. I saw as he looked around the room, walking slowly and dragging his eyes over every inch. Why do they want to find someone so bad?

His steps thudded with his large boots on the floor. He had his military boots, coat and pants on with no hat and a few knives strapped to his waist that I could see peaking out of under his coat.

The door was still open. I could make a run for it. So I tried. I slowly lugged my body over the edge of the pillar and held on so I was dangling. I then let go and dropped down. The man whipped around as I regained balance and made a run for the door.

I didn't make it far before my shoulders were grabbed and I was harshly stopped. "Thought you could run?" The man asked. I gulped. "We just want a little chat, come downstairs with us, eh?" He said.

It wasn't like I had much of a choice.

"Bennet, I have one!" The man behind me yelled as he kept a firm grip on my shoulders and led me out of my room. His loud voice made me slightly flinch. I wanted to speak up and protest but my voice was stuck in my throat.

I was led down the stairs, my eyes stricken with fear. He steered me to the right, into the living room where my mom was waiting and a soldier by her with a rifle in his hands. Her eyes widened as she saw me and a sob broke out from her.

"Don't take her, please. She's just a girl and she's twelve!" My mom cried, trying to run towards me but the man behind her stopped her by putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Mom, what's going on?" I managed to speak out.

"Don't worry baby, everything will be okay," she said.

She said that when my brother was drafted, too. It wasn't okay. It never is.

"What is your name?" The man who I assumed Bennet was asked as he came down and stood in front of me.

"A-Aveera," I said with a slightly shaking voice. He raised his eyebrow, wanting me to elaborate. "Aveera Langston," I said, forcing myself to swallow my nerves.

"Aveera Langston..." He said. "And how old are you, Aveera?" He asked.

"T-Twelve," I said.

"Mmm. Fetch me the records from the town of Touville," Bennet said, waving off a soldier who stood near the door. The man hurried out and reappeared later with a leather folder in hand.

He skimmed through papers inside it until he landed on a certain one, pulling it out. His eyes skimmed over the paper. "It says here you do pretty well on your combat training. Skipping class sometimes, yes?" He asked, looking up at me.

My mom glanced over at me. She didn't know about that. Oops. I just meekly nodded.

"You are top in that class, though," he said thoughtfully, nodding his head slightly. "Where did you find her?" He asked the soldier who had a grip on my shoulder.

"In the first room to the right upstairs, sir. She dropped down somewhere and tried to run before I got her," he said.

"Where were you up there?" Bennet asked.

"O-on one of the beams," I said.

"Ah...Let's take her," he said.

"What?! No!" My mom yelled, trying to run forward towards me. "She's just a little girl! She's underage, too!"

"It looks like she has capabilities. We'll see if they fall through," Bennet said, walking forward. The man behind me kept me walking out the door and my mother was led out, too.

"Mama?" I cried out, looking back at her as I was led down the dirt path to the stagecoach waiting at the end. There were two more lined up behind it.

"Baby, everything will be okay!" She said. "I promise, okay? Do your best," she said, tears flowing down her cheeks.

I wriggled out of the grip of the soldier who was leading me out and sprinted towards my mom. I jumped into her arms and she embraced me tightly. "I don't believe you mom," I said, a tear going down my cheek.

"Just do your best sweetie," she said. I was then pulled back again and my mom watched with teary eyes, knowing she could do nothing.

I was pulled to the stagecoach and shoved in where there was three boys who looked my age waiting. Although they were probably a year older.

The door shut and I saw soldiers on horseback flanking the sides of the stagecoach that began to roll over the dirt road.

The boys were looking at me a bit confused as I shoved myself in the corner on the seat as far as I could, my head resting against the side as I aggressively wiped my tears away. I couldn't cry now. I was drafted into the war.

The boys exchanged glances then one with curly brown hair and deep brown eyes spoke up. "How old are you?" He asked.

"Twelve," I muttered.

"Twelve?" They all asked.

"Mhm," I muttered.

"Twelve and a girl? Why did they take you?" A blonde with blue eyes, short and shaggy hair said. "Why'd they take you?" He repeated.

"I-I don't know. I was exceeding at my combat training I guess. And then I was foolish enough to jump down from my hiding spot where I got seen," I said.

"Where was your hiding spot?" The one on the other end of the seat I was sitting on asked.

"Up on a ceiling beam," I mumbled. "How old are you guys?" I asked.

"Thirteen, he's fourteen," the brunette said, jutting his thumb sideways to the blonde. "I'm Calix, by the way."

"I'm Durro," the blonde said.

"Gage," the one next to me said.

"Aveera," I answered.

I tuned out the rest of their conversation as we rolled down the road.

How am I going to survive this?