Prologue
Elle (13 y.o)
The closet is dark. Quiet. Safe.
A wooden door, a golden knob that would shine in the light if the door is open. Smooth marble floor like the one in the classroom. Wooden shelves above with just enough room for someone to hide under if they need to.
And I needed to.
I thought back on the hour before, while silence fell after the sounds of the raid finished, keeping my mouth covered to keep myself from crying loudly, tears streaming down my cheeks.
Stay silent, I thought to myself, to make sure I don't make a sound. In the off chance (but still likely) that there were still officers in the school. Looking for more of us.
Stay silent.
Stay silent.
They won't know you're in here if you stay silent.
Stay silent.
Stay silent.
Stay silent.
-flashback-
The intercom crackled overhead during English, earning our eyes to the ceiling. “Lockdown,” we soon heard... but it sounded different. I stared then tilted my head as everyone went to the side, hiding against the wall beside the wooden door, following in suit, sitting cross-legged on the cold tile floor.
Mr. Gavin turned off the light, locked the door, covered the door’s window with the black tapestry, and closed the window at his desk. He soon joined us against the wall, leaning against it. My mind soon thought of the announcement of the lockdown
The woman’s voice seemed softer, like in a whisper, and her voice had fear leaking through. It was like the woman in the front desk was... scared. Everyone was whispering as if it were just another drill but judging from his face, the staff didn’t plan one one today.
It’s not a drill.
After 20 minutes, there was still no sign that the lockdown had ended. No admin coming in to tell them, no notification on Mr. Gavin’s phone, no announcement. Nothing. That’s when I heard it.
Yells of men. Screams.
Everyone stayed silent this time and I knew they heard it too. A guy was silently crying next to me as he trembled. I wanted to comfort him, let him know that this will all be over soon. But I didn’t know if it would end.
The screams were closer, two rooms away, when I ran quickly to Mr. Gavin’s closet and hid in there, covering my mouth to keep from making a noise, hiding under the shelves with his things.
I removed one of my hands and flapped it slowly to calm myself, palm facing up. I made sure not to thump it on my lap. Please don’t come here. Please don’t come here.
Broken glass. I knew the men got in. Everyone screamed. Mr. Gavin shouts. “¡Dejenlos! They’re only children, not ilegales!”
I stared at the door. ¿Ilegales? Was this really a raid? There were news all over Tiktok and articles all over talking about the ICE raids in different places. But I didn’t think they’d actually make it to the RGV!
-flashback over-
2 hours.
It took 2 hours for me to work up the courage to shout for help, since it was getting hard to breath in the confined space, when I was finally let out. Tears streaming down my cheeks, I looked up at Principal Wagner, finally able to breathe. His brown eyes shone in remorse, his pale face frowning, his dark beard moving with his frown. "Elle..."
I hugged him, scared. When I pulled away, I asked, flapping my hands slowly to calm myself. "Was... was that really...?" He nodded.
"I'm so sorry, dear. They took everyone besides Foster and me. And you, it looks like." Everyone...
I got out of the room, not believing it. No... no! I roamed the hallway, seeing some broken down doors, desks turned over, backpacks and phones left behind. Even Leo's room.
"No..." I collapsed on the floor, cutting my leg on one of the stray pieces of glass on the floor. But I didn't feel it. I didn't care. Everyone was gone. Even my big brother. Besides Mr. Foster and Wagner, I was the only one left. The only student.
"They took 'Eo. They took him."
"I really am sorry, Elena."
Taka (7 y.o)
A warm day in New York. Mama walked next to me, her long wavy brown hair hidden under her hijab, her warm tan hand in my caramel one. She walked a bit faster when we saw my school.
"Taka-jan," she said, her emerald green eyes gazing down into my own as she knelt down to my height. "Have a good day, my love," she said in Farsi, Baba's language, -though there was a slight accent in her words; Mama's was Arabic, but she learned for him, she told me, because she loved him and embraced his language- "and be safe. You don't know what would happen."
I didn't understand what she meant, but I nodded, happily walking to the entrance... Then I heard it. Mama's shouting. The man that was holding her glaring, shouting at her in English. "Stay down, fucking Taliban."
Taliban... I didn't understand that word. I only knew that's what some people call me and my family.
I screamed for her as an officer grabbed me too. "Mama!" His hand gripped my arm tighter, hurting me. "MAMA!! Let me go! Let Mama go!"
"Stay still, kid!" he shouted at me. That scared me even more, shaking my head and struggling in his arms again.
"Don't struggle, Taka-jan," she told me in Arabic. "Mama will be ok, I promise. Listen to the officer." But as they whacked her face with the butt of their rifle, I knew they don't care of complacency. They cared about fear, obedience.
I had to be obedient.
