I wake up to the sounds of the morning bells blaring across the neighbourhood, just like every other day. For a moment I am content, just lying on my thin mattress and thinking of nothing. But then I realise what day it is and a large stone appears in my stomach.
Clothing day. I think to myself, my apprehension growing. Hopefully if we leave early and do it quickly we’ll be safe. I close my eyes and focus on that thought, as if by pure will power I can make it true.
Starting to feel sick with what lay ahead of me I get up and start getting ready. I walk out to the kitchen to see my daughter eating her breakfast. “Are you ready for today?” I ask her.
She nods solemnly at me, her eyes wide with fear. She knows the risk of today, just like everyone else.
We are soon prepared to leave. Before I open the door I turn to her and say, “Now remember; never let go of my hand. Okay?”
“I know Mummy.” She says, tears starting to form in her eyes. I kneel down to hug her.
“Everything’s going to be alright, heart,” I lie to her. “They are not going to take you away from me,” She nods seriously at me again. “Now get your raincoat, it’s raining outside.”
We leave our small apartment and head down the old rickety staircase. As we reach the exit I see my neighbour with her two small boys. A hard look passes between us and I see her grip tighten on their hands.
We walk out into the rain and join the throng of mothers walking with their children. “All unattended children will be taken into protective custody. Please do not leave your child unattended.” The words screech out of the speakers placed on every building. They remind us of the danger, while pretending to be saviours.
It had been seven years since the new government had decreed its innovative law for saving children. The people hadn’t voted it in; it had simply appeared one day. But no one objected, it was to save children, everyone must support that.
It had begun with stating that any child that was abused or malnourished would be automatically taken by the government. They would then be taught and provided for by a new special division of the government. Everyone agreed with that, they called it “A positive step to protect our most precious resource.” Or at least that’s what the government claimed they said.
Then it changed. Now it included all homeless children and then children from poor families that couldn’t provide as much as the government could. Still no one protested, “It’s for the best.” “Why not give the kids the best they can?”
Then it went further, until eventually any child who was left home alone for any length of time, or left unsupervised in public was taken. But still no one said anything, because the children didn’t. When they eventually left the government facilities, they were… different.
They actively supported the law, each of them quickly acquiring employment in the government or becoming “Saviours.” The people who collected the supposedly neglected children.
Eventually everyone became petrified of having their children saved. Mothers quit their jobs to be with their children at all hours of the day. Myself included.
I clutch my daughter’s hand harder as we walk past a Saviour. His dark, blank eyes watching every mother and child as they walk past, eventually the road is congested with people walking to the government clothing sector. A initiative by the government so that all children are receiving the same, satisfactory clothing, and no one is neglected.
We walk and walk, no one drives anymore for fear of having an accident with their child inside. It stops raining but everyone still holds up their umbrellas in a vain attempt to hide themselves from the innumerable cameras and Saviours.
However, the ground is still wet, and I feel my daughter slip out of my hand. She cries out as she hits the ground, grazing her hand. I try to get to her, to pick her up and hide her from the Saviours, but the crowd carries me forward.
Then, my pulse beats louder and louder in my ears; I see a Saviour walking towards my daughter. I try harder to fight back through the crowd, screaming her name.
But it’s too late; the Saviour picks her up and carries her away. Away from me.
Quickly, they’re swallowed up by the masses and I stop. I stand there, facing the continuing crowd as my heart is carried away from me. Forever.