Nonexistent

PROLOGUE

THE Masked Men come at the most unexpected hours.

At least that's what the village rumours whisper these days. Debates on which days the horrifying men will arrive never seem to cease. Countless calculations for a pattern over the years don't die down either. I know they're nothing but inaccurate conspiracies, though-- just the simple result of overwhelming paranoia.

Every year, nobody surely knows when the checkups happen, or what time the Masked Men do come.  But there's one thing of certainty; they always do. 

These horrid beasts are sent by the government, and they're after those with special abilities. Deviants, we call them, and I'm positive that's exactly what my children are.

These days, the slightest noise wakes me in the evening. Oftentimes, I don't even sleep, feeling like I'm just waiting, praying, that it would be the night they come to take them away. It needs to be over soon, for the anticipation of the unexpected is destroying me. 

Please, don't get the wrong idea.

I love my children more than anything. But if they're going to be taken one night, I'd much rather have my sorrow shortened as soon as possible. I've always dreamed of escaping those monsters, but the walls of Valburn don't permit children under one to leave without being examined. I know the law, the penalty for resisting them... or rather, the government: death. 

Public execution, to be exact. One has the option to be beheaded or hanged. It's the very last bit of freedom of choice you'll ever get, and it's going to be on how you die. That's as honourable as it gets around here.

On one of the rare occasions when I actually do fall asleep, though, I'm not sure if God answers my prayers or curses me. The impatient banging on the door wakes me, and I find myself trapped in a living nightmare. They are unmistakably here. 

The relentless banging on the door doesn't cease.

I hear the twins crying, and the pounding on the wooden door just keeps getting louder, echoing my heartbeat. The elders predicted the checkups to be sometime next month. But, it's useless. They're already here, and this is the moment I've been waiting for so long. I'm going to let them in, allow them to examine the twins, and let them take them away. 

That's the only way no one gets hurt. I promised myself I would. I promised...

I shut my eyes for a moment, and I try to escape the situation. I hear the twins, their little cries... so sad. So afraid. Like they need me more than ever. How can I say goodbye? 

I open my eyes, a decision finally made.

I thought I was prepared, prepared to give them up. But I'm not letting them go. I can't. 

Quickly, and quietly, something inside me tells to unfold a crumpled photo of our family and swiftly tuck it safely inside one of their sleeping coats, and so I do. I then sketch a rough draft of a plan in my head. It's not exactly the best, but my mind is already set on fighting them with all I've got. I hurry to my drawer and pull out the handgun my husband, Airis, left with me for one purpose, and for one purpose only.