My family of six was standing in the foyer of our house, everyone dressed semi-formally. After putting our shoes on and grabbing last minute essentials, my mother stood in front of me and my siblings. One by one she kissed us all on the tip of our foreheads. When she got to me, a look of sadness plagued her face and although she quickly fixed it into a neutral expression, I knew what I had saw. "Oh sweetie," she whispered, "I love you, no matter what." After a gentle smile directed towards only me, she opened the door and ushered us all out one-by-one. I knew what she meant by that. I was a little different looking than my siblings and parents—you could have even called it a little abnormal but I was surely human. They could think otherwise though.
After only a few minutes of walking, we reached a building designated as the town hall. The building was made of bricks probably close to hundreds of years ago—it certainly was one of the oldest buildings in town, but only recently was painted a baby blue colour to give it a new feel. At the entrance there were two people, a man and a woman, each sat at a desk with a stack of papers and a line of families like mine in front of them. The line stopped and went every few seconds.
When my family reached the beginning of the line the man sitting at the desk with the papers recognized my father right away. He wasn't exactly an influential or well-known man, but when you lived in a town as small as ours, it would be hard not to know the community. "Ah, Rayner, nice to see you!" He gave my father a quick handshake and made a check on the paper in front of him. As I got closer I noticed that it was a list of names. Presumably, everyone in town was on that list, judging from the numerous rows and columns on the stack of pages. "This must be Kiena," he said looking to my mom and then marked the paper, "Floria," check, "Gracia," check, "Sibilia," check, "Amicia." That was my name. He made a check and we entered the building to see rows of people sat on benches.
My mother directed us toward the front of the building. My youngest sister, Sibilia, led the way. She stopped at row three which was half empty. The rows in front of us were mostly filled, save for a few spots in between groups. I could see that many people were chatting innocently with their neighbours and friends, not at all worried about the reason we had all been gathered here today. On the other hand, I was.
I knew the hall was swelling up by the increase in volume. Five people chatting was nothing, but the voices of hundreds that were heard now made me unable to focus and made my brain feel busy. I clasped my hands together and sat my elbows in the middle of my thighs. I nodded slowly a few times. I was trying to ignore everything that was going on around me and convince myself somehow that I would be okay and by this time tomorrow I would be safe at home with my family. I wished that was the way it could be. My mother started rubbing my hunched-over back. I could tell it was her without even looking. When I finally sat up, her eyes were on me and she smiled. I smiled back. I didn't want her to be worried. Everything would be okay.
After a few minutes, a group of men came to the front of the building in front of the first row. "Hello everybody! Most of you know me around here. It's your friendly neighbourhood policeman, Mr. Lyerson!" One of the men starts talking. He was joking around which I assume was his attempt at making the situation less nerve-racking for some. "As you all know, the new king has taken over, King Dorian Taelman. He has asked for all the um, supernatural? Paranormal? Ahem," he cleared his throat, "whatever term you folks prefer, to be transported onto castle grounds and then, well, that is about all I know. Anyway, row by row you'll stand and come up here. We've been sent some special people to make it more clear who we're sending and who's staying. Any questions before we begin?"
A lady in the back stood up. "What happens if someone didn't come? I think one of my friends is missing." She glanced around the room. I recognized her as one of the cashiers at the grocery store nearby my house.
"Ah, well, they'll be dealt with later. We'll have no choice but to go looking for them," the officer replied. "Okay then, row one! Line up here please."
Four of the six men at the front walk backwards and rested against the wall. The other two, the officer and some other person I had never seen before, walked to one of the side walls to make room for the lines of people. I watched carefully as the first few people in line approached the unknown man. The man stares at them and shook his head at the police officer. Over and over and over again. But the case of an elderly woman was a bit different. He nodded to the policeman who then nodded to one of the men against the wall. The man walked forward to the woman, told her to put her hands behind her back and immediately put her in handcuffs. She gave a sad look into the crowd and let the man guide her outside without putting up a struggle. I watched the rest of the row being examined. Then the second lined up. Again, there weren't many people taken out of the building.
My row was next. I waited as the people at the end of the row stood and walked to the front of the building. I stood in between my parents and my siblings in line. I didn't want to feel nervous, but my body showed signs of it anyway. I was shaking slightly, I was sure even the crowd could notice it. As the line moved forward I was growing more desperate for water. My mouth and throat had gone so dry that it felt hard to swallow. Suddenly, I felt like crying. I didn't know what was about to happen to me, but the thought of being taken away like that woman scared me.
Slowly the line moved up so that I was next. Unsurprisingly, my parents came out clean. When I stepped forward toward the man, he looked at me with a blank expression, but then it changed to one of confusion as he looked at my key features. He looked to the officer but didn't nod or shake his head.
"Yeah, I don't know either," the officer mumbled toward the man, "but those girls behind her are her siblings so ... " he trailed off.
The man looked back at me. Then he did the thing I feared, he nodded. One of the men with handcuffs walked towards me. He demanded that I put my hands behind my back. My bottom lip started trembling but I did as I was told. He signalled to me to start walking towards the entrance and I did. On the way out I caught the eyes of my parents. I lowered them, not wanting them to catch onto the sadness and fear I was feeling and certainly not wanting to see it in theirs. Every step I took toward the door seemed to happen in slow motion. It was as if I would never reach the door. Was it getting further away?