Hannah Meyer Family

HANNAH MEYER, ALGONA HIGH SCHOOL 1st Place in Prose, Top of Iowa High School Writing Contest

Family

The impregnable prison was the nightmare of any and all convicts in the world. From the outside, the building looked calm and inviting, but within its locked doors and thick walls, the truth was unleashed. Hidden in plain sight on a main street, no outsider would suspect the true happenings inside. Unlike how one would imagine a prison, the interior of the building matched that of its exterior. Entering through the large, glass front door, two plush sofas could be seen lining the north wall, directly facing a flat screen television on the south wall. The remainder of the house was equally inviting with photos hanging on every wall of the “family” that resided in the “home.” Dozens of bedrooms were located on both the first and second floors of the house.

On the last Thursday of every month, someone new would be transferred to the well-kept building. This day held the most tension of all others throughout the years. A large, armored vehicle arrived in the driveway and all other activity stopped. The children playing in their yards were called inside by their mothers and the fathers of each home put on hold their yard work. The routine was the same, and by the time the armored vehicle was pulled to a full stop, the entire street was silent. Men swarmed out of the vehicle and crowded themselves at the back. Within seconds, the silence was interrupted with ghastly screams as another person tried to escape when the back of the vehicle was at last opened.

“Please! Anywhere else! Not here!” he would cry.

Minutes passed as the men dragged their prisoner to the door of the inviting home. His helpless cries got no reply in return. Once inside, the doors were locked and the men returned to their waiting vehicle and left the quiet street. The only sound heard was the rumble of the tires on the pavement. Absolute silence covered the area until the vehicle was nowhere to be seen. Slowly, as if nothing had happened at all, the children returned to play and the sound of lawnmowers rang through the air once again.

Inside the prison, the same could not be said. The family inside spoke to the prisoner as though he were one of them.

“Calm, brother,” said a young man holding onto his arm.

“You’re home now, son,” cooed an older woman, patting gently on the

prisoner’s head.

“What about father-son bonding like we used to? What do you say?” the man standing next to the woman suggested.

“What is going on?” the prisoner screamed once again, fighting against the grasp of the number of people holding him down.

“John, I think he just needs some rest,” the woman whispered to the man, “Maybe you two can bond tomorrow morning.”

“You’re probably right, Jane. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Please! Get me out of here!” the prisoner yelled.

“Danny! Can you get your brother some warm milk? Maybe it will help him relax.”

“Yeah. One moment, Mother,” Danny called back, releasing his grasp on the prisoner’s arm. He soon returned with a large glass of milk, watching it carefully as to not spill.

“Drink up, son. You’ll need your rest for the day tomorrow,” Jane said calmly.

“I’m not your son and I don’t want any milk! This has got to be some sick joke! I regret what I did! I swear! I won’t do it again! Just get me out of here!”

“That is no way to speak to your mother, Thomas!” John spat back, his voice booming and echoing throughout the house.

The prisoner immediately stopped crying for help, but the fear in his eyes remained. John took the glass of milk from Danny and offered it to the prisoner, but he refused to accept the glass. John did not take this lightly. He grasped the hair at the back of the prisoner’s neck and pulled his head back.

“Drink it!” he growled, but the prisoner still refused. John poured the milk down the prisoner’s throat, despite his bodily objections, holding his mouth shut until he swallowed.

“See, it’s not that bad, is it Thomas? Now you’ll get a wonderful night’s rest,” Jane smiled.

“Name… my name… it’s Matthew…” the prisoner whispered softly as he lost consciousness and his eyes fluttered shut.

“Sleep well, Thomas!” Danny smiled * * *

“Kids! It’s time for breakfast!” Jane called up the stairs the next morning.

The young man woke with a start, uncertain of where he was, and screamed. Jane and John ran up the stairs to meet him.

“What’s wrong, Thomas? Are you alright?” they asked with worry.

“Yeah,” he confirmed, out of breath, “I just had a bad dream. That’s all.”

“What about?”

“I had forgotten who you all were. I was terrified.”

“It was only a nightmare. Nothing to worry yourself over now. How about you get dressed and come down for breakfast. Your mother made pancakes and eggs. They’re waiting for you downstairs.”

“Alright. I’ll see you soon,” Thomas sighed, wiping sweat from his brow. He pulled his covers back and swung his legs off the bed. After getting ready, Thomas made his way down the stairs for breakfast. * * *

About a month later, Thomas was painting in the kitchen with his brother when the doorbell rang. Both Thomas and Danny turned to face the door. As the ring began to fade, John and Jane ran to meet who was waiting at the door. The opened door revealed several men holding down a woman who seemed to be struggling against. John and Jane took her from the men and thanked them softly. They pulled her over to one of the plush sofas on the north wall. The woman struggled beneath their grasp. The muscles in her arms seemed to have no power over that of John and Jane.

“Darling, it’s alright,” Jane soothed.

“Please! Don’t make me stay here! I need to get back home! My daughter is alone! I only wanted to help her! She’s sick!” the woman pleaded.

“You don’t have a daughter, Emily. We’re your family. You’re home. How about you calm your nerves with some milk. Thomas, would you grab some milk for your sister?”

“Of course, father!” Thomas responded, running into the kitchen. He soon returned with a large glass, filled to the brim.

“Drink, Emily,” John said calmly, taking the glass from Thomas and passing toward her.

“My name is Jessica and I need out of here! I don’t need any of your stupid milk! I’ve heard what happens here! I know why I’m here, but you have to listen to me! I need to get back to my daughter!”

“Drink the milk, Emily!” Danny yelled almost angrily. “Don’t be angry with your sister, Danny. She just needs some time to relax.”

“I know what the milk does. It will make me forget who I am. It will make

me forget my daughter. It will make me one of you. But that’s what you want, isn’t it? You want me to forget. This is my punishment for stealing that food!”

This angered John and he began pouring the milk down her throat.

“Gentle, John!” Jane urged.

Emily choked on the warm milk until she went unconscious.

“John!” Jane gasped.

John checked her pulse and assured Jane that she was alright.

“She’ll be fine by morning. Take her to her room,” he said, turning to walk to his own.

* * *

The next morning, the family met downstairs for breakfast.

“Morning, mom!” Emily chirped from the doorway before seating herself at a new chair at the table.

“Good morning, Emily.”