I hate Mondays. I mean, who doesn't? Two days off for five days of unpaid work is literally a rip off in this world. But it has to be done. No one else in the village has the patience to teach such young children. Those children are lucky to be alive, without my Paps' who knows how many of these kids would be here? He was a well established doctor before the blackout and luckily retained all his "doctor-y" information till this day. I turned out fine ... I think.

My name is Ivy Winters and I live in a small town in Philadelphia. Raised in a village of fifty we all thrive off the land and local village campfires, bonding and sharing stories from before the blackout. I don't remember much, I was only young, in fact I'm only 17 now! But from what I've heard, it sounded strange.

The sun has only just risen on a spring Morning in our village. I quickly shifted out of bed and ran to the well; today I was going to be organised. Carrying three buckets back to the house, I bathed and got breakfast ready for Paps before leaving. Dashing through the corn field I embraced the winter sun, letting it stroke my arms and lighten my hair. A breeze gently brushed against my chest and caused the hairs on my arms to rise in excitement. I was more excited to work than ever, despite it being a Monday.

Monday, Monday, Monday. Unlocking the barn door, my head sharply turned to the left as I noticed little Ruby Frame. The girl, no younger than five must have arrived early, eager to learn and yearning to play. Her pigtails bobbed in the wind, dancing on her shoulders while praising the sun above as her eyes watched my keys jangling in the door. Slowly pushing the rusty red door ajar the girl ran in and planted herself on the vintage blue rug. I couldn't start teaching until the others arrived.

"Miss Winters, please Please PLEASE can you tell me a story?" The girl begged, her green eyes sparkling. "You are the best at stories! THE BESTEST!"

I chuckled at the girl. So much for being organised! But how can you say no to a child who lives to learn?

"Okay then!"

"YAY!" She squealed in excitement. She ran to the shelf of books and pulled one down. Eyes fixated on the cover she ran back to me and jumped onto my lap.

"The Gruffalo?" I asked, puzzled at the choice the girl had made.

"It's my favourite! Mr Jones always reads it to me before I go to sleep." I smiled to myself at the thought. Mark Jones was two years older than myself and lived with the Frame Family. We ... may have had a thing ... but you don't know that!

I began to read the story to Ruby, changing the pitch in my voice to match those of the snake, the mouse and the fox. The girl squealed in ecstasy and buried her head into my chest.

"Hey, I thought this was our book?" A deep voice echoed from the other side of the empty barn.

"Mr Jones!" Ruby ran towards the man who picked her up and swung her around as if she were his own.

"What's Miss Winters doing reading you our story, ehh?"

"Our Story?" I scoffed. "I'm just doing my job, unlike some."

"Hey, I'm doing my job!" He slowly walked towards me with the girl in his arms. "I just wanted to lie in, that's all."

He leaned in a kissed me on the lips, his touch was as soft as summer showers and he smelt like a dewy morning.

"Eww!" Ruby yelled. "Boys are icky!" She shoved us apart and jumped down to welcome all the other students into class.

"Are you ready for today?" He whispered into my ear.

"Are you?"

A collective scream of terror drove us apart as the barn doors were torn open. Our class ran in and coward behind the two of us, whimpering and hiding their faces.

Turning I began to ask what was wrong but they were too shocked and startled to answer.

"Wait here, I'll go see what's going on." Mark held my gaze with his chestnut brown eye and quitted from the shelter.

All 12 children continued sobbing into each other as well as babbling on about what had happened. After a quick count up, a thought dawned upon me.

"W...w...Where's Ruby?" Panic suddenly hit me in the gut. Whoever or whatever was out there had one of my students. One of my youngest students wasn't here.

"Miss Winters, It's them!" One child whispered.


"IVY!" Ruby's voice cried from the courtyard.

If this was a dangerous situation I had to make sure these children were safe. I rounded them together and hid them behind some hay bales in the far corner of the room. I repeated the instructions carefully.

"If you hear gun fire, stay where you are. If anyone comes in, stay here. If it's me or Mr Jones then we will explain the situation. I'm doing this to keep you guys safe." After placing a small kiss on each childs head I began towards the door. Mouthing "I love you" I left the barn and entered into the bright light of day.

"Ruby? Mark?" I called.

"IVY HELP!" The girl screamed again.

Sprinting into the direction of the voice I made my way through the corn fields, back towards the village.


"IVY!" That wasn't Ruby's voice that was Pappas voice.

I made my way back into the village circle where all the residents stood outside their homes close to each other.

"Militia" I spoke to myself.

"Miss Winters, glad you could join us." A deep voice bellowed through the town.

"Where's Ruby?" I called through the circle.

Papa made his way forward. His eyes were full or sorrow, his fists were clenched in anger. He embraced me and stroked my hair.

"I'm so sorry."

"W...where's Ruby?"

"Sorry to break the family moment but it's time to go." The deep voice bellowed again.

The militia trundled into the village centre, destroying and cutting down anything in their way. Many ladies hid behind their men whilst they took in the situation in hand.

"You can't take her." Paps called. The greying man pushed me to his side, protection from what might come.

"Under orders of General Monroe, I need her for his plan."

"Why m...me?" I stuttered.

The front man made his way forward and took my hand. I would have pulled away if his weapons weren't hidden within his jacket.

"Miss Winters, do you know your name?" My brow furrowed in confusion.

"Ivy, my name is Ivy."


"Sorry? I think I know my own name."

"What if I told you that your real name is Scarlett and your father's name is General Monroe?"

At that point I pulled my hand away. Why was the soldier lying to me? Why would General Monroe want me? There is no way I could be ...

"No ... Yo...you're lying!" I shouted.

"Miss Monroe, please. I don't want to hurt you in front of your temporary family but it is my sworn duty to bring you to your father. Otherwise ... well It's my head on a platter really." He chuckled to himself.

I went to run away when two soldiers emerged from behind me and held my arms with a tight grip which could easily stop someone's breath. I yelped in pain and was dragged back towards the man whose badge read Captain Neville.

"Miss Monroe, come with me quietly or it will all end in tears."

"No! You've got the wrong girl!" I protested. The soldiers refused to let go and began to drag me towards the cart. I screamed and struggled, refusing to be taken from my home; refusing to be taken from my family.

My papa ran towards me but suddenly Neville had him by the throat. He threw the aging man down and knelt on his chest. Exchanging a few words the men began to attack one another, fists flying in all directions. I continued to struggle and scream but it was no use, I was being handcuffed to the rails and gagged. The cart began to pull away when I saw a dagger being raised above Neville's head. The gates began to close as I heard my papa yell in pain.

Screaming through the gag as a tear rolled down my cheek I began to question myself, my life. Was this true? Was I really Monroe's daughter? If I was then why was I hear? Why wasn't I with him? Do I have a mother? Does he really care for me that much that he'd leave me with this man who I'd called my papa for my whole life? I sobbed into the corner as we sped off away from the village. Where was Mark? Where was Ruby? Who would save the kids who were still in the barn? Had they found them were they hurt?

After I'd composed myself I looked up. I wasn't the only prisoner in this carriage. A boy sat there, his eyes showing sympathy towards me as if he'd experienced the same. His blonde hair caught the sun and threw it off towards me. He almost seemed like an angel. The angel of comfort. We remained looking at each other as the carriage plodded through the countryside.

Hi everyone! I've decided to slowly re-write this fic as to be honest ... .IT'S AWFUL! Well this re-write may not be better but y'know. Please Re-read and give me some feedback if you want! Thanks :)