I jumped awake as I felt something lightly flop down on my stomach. It was a magazine, specifically a National Geographic, having been thrown down on me by my older brother, Samuel, who was glaring down at me with his dark brown eyes, an open can of Sprite in his right hand.

"What?" I groaned, still half asleep. I rolled onto my side, burying my face in the back rest of the couch I was sleeping on.

"You've been sleeping there for a good two hours already." He growled, picking up his magazine. "Get up." He placed the Sprite down on the coffee table and sat down in the plush reclining armchair. I rolled onto my back again and rubbed my eyes before glancing out the living room window. The window was partially obscured by the blinds, but you could still see the snowstorm that was brewing outside despite it already being dark out. Winter...one of the joys of living in Canada, especially with the five-foot snowdrifts.

It was out there that our dad and step-mom had gone, out to run some errands, including the groceries. That left me and my brother home alone, alone to our own devices. For us that consisted of being "lazy sods" as the british would say.

I heard the pages crinkle as Sam whipped open the magazine, flipping through it as he sat there. If you looked at my dad and me you'd swear that Sam was adopted, his blonde hair and blue-green eyes were a stark contrast to our black hair and brown eyes. He got his features from mom's side of the family. Our mother, who passed away eight years ago.

It would be easy to say that because of our mom's death that I had some kind of tragic backstory. Honestly I have things good all things considered, nice house(even if the heater couldn't handle the cold being this bad), loving family, good group of friends, decent enough grades. I was happy with my life...now that I've said that, keep this in the back of your mind...it comes up later.

I rubbed the drowsiness from my eyes, the sleep leaving a slightly bitter tasting film in my mouth. Or maybe that was my not having had anything to drink in six hours by now. Whatever the case, I was damn thirsty and I needed something to drink, stat.

I got up, the cold of the wood floor seeping through my socks as I stood. I made my way groggily around the couch, still rubbing the last vestiges of sleep from my right eye as I headed for the kitchen. Reaching it I pulled the fridge open and grabbed the first soda can off the door that I saw, it was Iced Tea. I opened it and knocked back the first few gulps.

It was damn cold, and it didn't help that it was almost borderline freezing in here. I had three layers on me right now, a simple navy-blue t-shirt worn overtop a white long-sleeved shirt that read "Vancouver 2010" down the right sleeve and "Believe" written across the front. Overtop this was a zipped-up black N7 hoodie. I wore a pair of thick grey sweatpants and a pair of black socks.

In hindsight I should have probably heated up some tea, well I guess I'm stuck with this can of what felt like liquid nitrogen but tasted like regular old iced tea. Such is life I suppose.

I figured I'd head up to my room and try and curl up in a blanket and play some games on my computer while I waited for the parents to get back. Hopefully Grace'd start a fire, and then I could curl up there in front of the fireplace and read a book or something. I'd have gotten a fire going myself, but the last time I tried I wound up setting my arm on fire. Not on purpose of course, but apparently fire does not like me very much. By the way I forgot to mention that Grace is my step-mom, just wanted to clarify.

My room was fairly messy, at least that would be how it could have looked to an outside observer, I had my own way of organizing my stuff. On the right wall was my bed, big enough only for me, shoved up to the far wall. On said far wall was a single window, off to the right of my bed. It was rather large but was blocked off slightly by two guitars propped up on stands, one electric and one acoustic. On the right wall was a medium-sized dark brown Ikea desk with a built-in shelf. On it I had my laptop and a motley collection of mini-figs and models from various series, or in the case of one model, from a historic period. Built into the wall was my closet, not much else was in there other than clothes. There was the odd article of clothing strewn on the floor, or my bed, not very many people came in my room.

I sat down in front of my computer, flipping it open and browsing through my game library, searching for one that would strike my fancy. Blow up some planets in Planetary Annihlation? Nah, maybe I'll continue my playthrough of Splinter Cell. I leaned back as I watched the game boot up, taking another swig from the can of iced tea.

Something felt wrong as the main menu appeared on the screen, I could feel a presence behind me. Might have been me going crazy, except for the fact that I felt something hit me in the neck. It stung like a son of a bitch, and my left hand shot up to feel for what it was. It was small and cylindrical with a mass of thin bristles sticking out f one end. I pulled it out of my neck, it was a tranquilizer dart, my heart sank. I spun on my chair, looking back for what had stuck it in me.

There, disappearing into thin air, was a man retreating into what looked like a shimmering Stargate vortex. All I saw was his head, and it was obscured by a grey ski-mask and black goggles. He disappeared just before the gate's event horizon closed up. I went from highly concerned to downright panicking.

I turned just as the first waves of drowsiness hit me. I tried screaming for help, but when I tried all I could was moan out low a "Help". I tried to get out of my room, but stumbled and fell, barely able to grab onto the doorframe. I slid down the wall, using my shoulder to brace myself against it. My eyelids were getting heavy, I made another attempt to call out for help, all that came out was a feeble wimper. After that it was over, I fell over onto my side, finally succumbing to the fatigue slowly claiming my body.

The first sensation I felt was the pain, well not really pain but I felt sore as hell, like my joints had swollen and my ligaments had been cut and stitched together again and again. I was lying on my side on a hard surface, it was cool and felt like metal. Maybe that's why I was so damn sore. I could make out a faint humming noise like that of an industrial ventilation system. The smell was like that of a hospital, anti-septic, disinfectant and mild chlorine. I tried to open my eyes, they stung like hell. I tried to bite back that pain and force them open. I still couldn't see.

I lifted my hands up to my face, my arms sluggish from the drugs that were no doubt making their way out of my system. I felt my face for any sign as to why I couldn't see, I felt bandages wrapped around my head. My first thought was "Oh shit, they took my eyes!" but putting a bit of pressure over where my eyes would be located allowed me to feel the definite shape of the eyeballs underneath, yeah that hurt a bit too.

I grabbed some of the bandages and pulled on them, yanking them off my face and revealing my eyes. It was bright in here and I quickly shut my eyes against the light . It was a small four meter by four meter room which was illuminated by four fluorescent lights oriented parallel to the walls. The walls, floor and ceiling was painted white, except for a black dot in each corner on the floor of the room. There was a mirror on the wall to my right.

God damn my eyes hurt so bad! I closed them again. covering them with one hand as the other worked to remove the rest of the bandages from my head. Getting them off, I tried opening my eyes again, letting in the blinding light, though every time it seem to be reduced in intensity. I tried getting up, every muscle ached and cried out in protest as I brought my legs under me and stood up shakily.

I made my way over to the mirror to survey myself. The face of a fourteen-year-old girl stared right back. That was me. My hair shoulder length, skin mildly tan, and wearing what looked like some dystopian future prisoner's outfit. White t-shirt and white knee-length shorts, with the number 416 printed on the left arm and left leg of the outfit. A pair of black socks ended just below my knees and, if my feet weren't going apeshit, they had a mildly padded sole.

What caught my eye was, well my eyes. They looked too dark, too...black. I leaned in closer. Why the hell were they black? They were supposed to be hazel brown! And why were my eyelids all swollen and puffy? Wait a second...

"Oh shit..." I muttered, stepping back from the mirror. My voice sounded hoarse. "What've they done to me?" I knew that they at least did one thing...they took my friggin' eyes! They took them! And then they replace them with these black ones as if they thought I wouldn't notice!

Taking another quick glance around the room before stepping back until my back pressed against the wall before I slid down into a sitting position. My head was beginning to spin with all these questions. Where the hell was I? Why was I wearing this bona-fide inmates getup? WHY DID THEY TAKE MY EYES?!! My eyes began to burn again as I started crying. What about my family? How were they going to react? Would they find me? Would I get to go home?

I brought my knees up and rested my chin on them, wrapping my arms around my legs and squeezing lightly. Under the brilliant fluorescent lights inside the tiny room...no, tiny CELL I was in, I felt so alone, so helpless. I wanted to get out of here, to just go home.

I was snapped from my thoughts as the wall to my right seemed to sink away before falling open. A door, i figured. Standing in the doorway was a pair of men clad in full-body grey suits, their heads covered with what looked like ski masks with the mouth covered, their eyes obscured by goggles. On top of that they wore a pair of blue camo pants and what looked like a navy blue bullet-proof vest and what looked like a metal plate tied by cloth around their necks. They carried what looked like oversized assault-rifles that were painted white. The two of them walked briskly into the cell and over to me.

"Get up." One said, leaning down and grabbing my right arm and pulling me up roughly. I tried to resist but the other one came over and did the same with my other arm. They pretty much dragged me out of the cell and out into the hall. It was much darker out here, the only lighting being blue LED lights on the ceiling, the walls themselves seemingly painted dark grey. I gave up struggling, letting them lead me on through a maze of hallways until we arrived at another door. It opened revealing another room on the other side.

This one was much like the small room I'd just been in, but scaled up to be much larger. There were a many other people inside, at least a hundred if I had to guess. They were all turning to look at me.

"Alright now get in there!" One of the guards said, before they tossed me in the room. I stumbled and fell on my face. That didn't help me feel any better let me tell you. I rolled over onto my back just in time to see the door slam shut and seal up flush with the wall of the room. Bastards. I sat up massaging my cheek where it hit the floor.

"You alright?" a voice said behind me. I spun to my right and looked up and saw a boy, about seventeen with brown hair and green eyes looking down at me.

"Uh-" I cleared my throat, trying to clear the hoarseness from it. "Yeah... kinda sore but I can manage."

"Well, dat's good den." He said, he had a bit of an accent. "You want to come sit with us?" He said hooking a thumb over his shoulder." I spotted the group of people he was referring to. Another boy and two girls. one of the girls waved.

"Sure." I said standing up, still feeling sore. He smiled, turning around and leading me back to his group. When I got close to the group one of the girls shot up.

"Hi! My name's Sherry!" She said excitedly, nearly hugging me. "What's yours?!" Man she was bubbly! Her appearance reflected it, her hair was dyed a bubblegum pink, and yes it was dyed, I could see from her roots that her hair was actually blonde. She had a wide smile and bright, blue eyes.

"Uh, Alexa..." I said, slightly nervous. Could say I was beginning to regret coming over. The first boy chuckled.

"Don't mind Sherry, she get a bit excited around new people!" He said, flashing a big toothy grin.

"I noticed." I replied.

"Awww Jarek! Don't say that!" She said pouting. Sweet Jesus this girl acted like a friggin' anime character!

"Take a seat newbie!" Said the other boy. He was black, and his hair was curled into dreadlocks, though they were loosening from a lack of care, not surprising considering our surroundings. "Name's Micheal." He said pointing at himself. "Quiet girl there is Aiko." Aiko was asian, had black hair and eyes, and her face was stuck in a frown. She didn't seem to be the most approachable person.

I sat down between Sherry and Jarek. I felt kinda out of place among this group, but I figured trying to make some friends and figure out where the hell I was would be a good idea.

"So Alexa, where're you from? You gotta tell us!" Sherry prodded.

"I'm ,uhm, from Missassauga Canada."

"Great white north, eh?" Micheal joked, putting on an unbelievably fake Canadian accent.

"Yeah..." I said, clearing my throat again. "You guys know where are?"

Jarek shrugged. "No clue...just dat every few days they bring in more people. Sometimes dey take away people but dat's rare." Damn this guy sounded Russian!

"Yeah, though the people they take away never come back again." Micheal chimed in.

"I bet they just sent them home!" Sherry said cheerfully. My guess was they didn't send 'em home.

"Don't be stupid Sherry." Aiko chimed in echoing my thoughts, although she was rather forceful about it. Sherry looked almost crushed, she sank down and slumped her shoulders, her face pouting. Okay, that's it, she's an anime character...

"Anybody know of a way we could get out of here?" I asked.

Jarek tilted his head back. "Many have tried, none have gotten out." He replied. "They have this place sealed up, no one knows what way is out, there are too many guards." He looked me in the eyes. "If we get out it will be miracle."

After that we descended into an uneasy silence, permeated only by the sounds of conversation form the other inmates. I gazed around the room trying to spot anything that looked like it might be a way out. The walls and ceiling were perfectly smooth. I sighed, I'd be spending a lot of time in here.