1925

Cassandra sat up. Her hand fell to the thin mattress under each her, and her eyes glanced to the cold handcuff around her wrist. She pulled, trying to get out of the cuff. A flood of memories knocked her back, as her brain remembered what had happened the last time she was awake.

"Cassandra Odelle Barnes! Get back here!" The voice of a female demanded.

"No!" She screamed, running into the street.

Oil lamps lit the night street, and she faced the door she had just run from. A boy, maybe a year older than her, came running out. He had dark messy hair, and bright blue eyes.

"Come on Cass, just go back inside," he said, standing in front of her.

"James, please, please I don't want to." Cassandra pleaded.

"Come on doll, please go back inside." He said.

"I hate it when you call me that." She pouted, crossing her arms.

"I know that's why I do it," he said with a smile, mimicking her position.

James wrapped his arms around the smaller girl, lifting her off her feet. She giggled, and gave him a toothy smile. He ruffled her hair, and kissed her on the forehead. Cassandra squirmed away, pushing her brother back. She was to busy giggling to notice James' expression turn to fear.

"Cass! Get out of the w-" he warned.

Strong arms picked up Cassandra from behind, covering her mouth with a lean hand. Cassandra sunk her teeth into the leather of the glove the person was wearing. James kicked the person in the shins, pulling at Cassandra's arm.

"Cass! Let her go, let her go!" James screamed.

"James! Help me!" Cassandra cried.

"Let her go!"

"Help! Help me!"

Lights began turning on in windows around the street, and Cassandra knew it was only a matter of time before the police came. She just had to stay with her brother for a little bit more.

"Cass! Let he-" James was cut off.

A gun was pressed to her temple, and the seven year old froze. The kidnapper said noting, but the message was clear.

Speak another word and she dies.

James shot his hands up, but she could tell he was about to cry. A tear slipped down her face and the figure dragged her to a truck, throwing her into the back. The person kept the gun aimed at James as they tied her arms and legs together with thick, scratchy rope, and shoved a gag in her mouth.

They finished, and jumped into the passenger seat of the car. As they drove off, James ran after the truck. The kidnapper fired a few bullets out the window, and he had to drop to the ground to avoid being hit.

She heard police sirens wailing in the distance, and her heart snapped. They were too late. She was already gone.

Cassandra put her hand over her face, and let out a wailing sob. The girl next to her opened her eyes, and put her free hand over them to block the light. She turned her head to look at Cassandra opened her mouth to say something.

"Будь тихой девушкой." She said harshly.

"I don't understand you!" Cassandra cried.

"Я сказал, молчи!" The girl said again.

Cassandra screamed in frustration, and the girl shoved a hand over her mouth. A woman with pinched features and white blonde hair that was pulled into a tight bun on the back of her head entered the room. She went around the room unlocking each girl's hand, but she kept Cassandra locked to her bed frame.

All the other girls left to a seperate room, the door slamming shut. Cassandra whimpered, pulling her knees to her chest, her arm sore from hanging from the bed. She waited, for how long, she didn't know. Her stomach growled, and she watched big flakes of snow fall down outside the barred window.

Cassandra stayed cuffed to the bed watching as girls came and went, praying that someone would come let her go. The sun set three times before one day she was unlocked from her bed. The skin on her wrist was rubbed red and raw, and her legs felt like they were made of jelly.

The woman held her wrist with a firm grip, pulling her into a seperate room. An older woman with red lipstick smeared over her lips, her face powder white, and her hair stretched over her head, so tightly that it gave Cassandra a headache, sat at a wooden desk.

"Sit." The woman said with a heavy Russian accent.

Cassandra sat down in the metal chair across from the desk. The woman behind her set a cold hand on her shoulder, warning her not to try to get away.

"Cassandra Barnes, seven years old, born December 18th, 1918. You are quite the talented young dancer, top of your ballet class." The woman read out of a folder.

Cassandra tried to grab at the picture of herself and her brother, James, when the woman held it out. The woman whipped out a ruler, and hit her over the hands with it, causing her to shrink back.

"You have been selected to be a part of our prestigious ballet academy for young girls like yourself." The woman said, standing up and pacing.

"That's not true, you take children and turn them into assassins for the Nazis." Cassandra interrupted, remembering the newspaper from a few months ago.

"Watch your tongue Miss Barnes," The woman snarled. "Talking like that won't help you here." The woman tapped her on the head with the ruler, hard enough to hurt.

The woman behind her tore a comb through her tangled hair, ignoring Cassandra's cries to stop. She braided her hair tightly, pulling as hard as she could, and soon Cassandra's hair was in two long braids down her back.

"Get her to a uniform and put her with the others." The woman ordered.

"Yes ma'am."

guess who's back, back again?

that's all i guess i got to say.

i love you guys three-thousand-