posted on Apr, 28 2012 @ 09:01 AM
So, it has come to this. I gaze down at my daughter, sadly watching her as she stands by my side. I remember what it was like before all this, before
we had to stand in line at the young age of 5 to get tested. We were just people once, with beliefs and feelings, we never had to choose a side, or we
could stand firmly with others who had like ideas, but we were never this.
All the parents in line were nervous; you never knew what the outcome of these tests would be. There were horror stories that everyone had heard.
Children getting put to sleep because they were deemed as psychopaths’. Or they were being sent away because they were unstable. No one wanted to
hear them just now, but you could see in the parents faces that they were in the back of their minds, filling each person with a sense of dread.
We had come to enjoy the first 5 years of our children’s lives. Most parents would take the full time off of work to spend it with them. Child
rearing had become a thing for the rich, as who would have a child today without having the ability to be home with them until they are tested. So
much of your time had to be spent with them, teaching them right and wrong, figuring out how to mold them into the perfect little person that you
couldn’t step away, not even for a minute. Not if you wanted them to be tested properly, not if you wanted them to survive.
The tests were meant to tell us how our children would perform at first, just to give us a better understanding of their development needs, and how to
prep them for life. They were a huge help for many parents and everyone embraced the process completely. But, a few years ago, the testing changed.
When the Government discovered that they could figure out exactly what that child would become when he/she grew up, that’s when they developed the
No one knew it at first either. Many people were still happy to go to the testing site, until we started hearing the stories. Just a few at first,
about children not coming out, and notices being sent to family members. “Your child has tested positive for a mental disability, he/she will be
sent to state ward for observations.”
That is when it began to get scary. They started to send your children away, according to race/religion/mental stability, etc… It used to be only a
few would not come back from the testing facility, now, only a few return. There have been rumors that they are sending them to different countries,
to live with parents who are “More like the child” I thought they were rumors anyways. Turns out it was true. I had a friend who was ordered to
take a child from one of these relocation projects. He was told it was for the Childs benefit, but the child only wanted her mom, and eventually, she
was put back into the system.
Now, most of these children are wards of the state. The Government can’t quite figure out how to fix the problem of the attachment a child has to
its biological parents, so, they are testing and analyzing, and medicating all the children they have right now, in order to get to the bottom of
But, for us parents who are waiting in line, we don’t want to think about it. My daughter is age 5 and must be tested according to the law. She
seems healthy and happy, but, that is not for me to say, that is for the government to say. And I am fearful of what their findings will be.
I have spent 5 years of my life molding her, developing her, trying to make sure she gets through these tests. I have spent thousands of dollars on
pre tests, psychiatric evaluations, genetic evaluations, and schooling, everything I can think of to keep her with us. And now it is in the
In a few moments, my child will walk through those doors, and I will either see her in two weeks, or I will get a notification through the mail. Those
are my only two options.
We are next in line, and as I realize this I reach down to give my daughter a kiss on the check, what could be, my last motherly act of love that I am
aloud to show her. I quickly slip a picture of myself and her father into her hand, and place the heart shaped pendant I got her around her neck. We
both give each other a big hug, and at that moment, a man pulls her out of my arms and takes her inside.
I am nothing now, I have nothing. My child is gone, and I cannot do a thing to change it. I take out a picture of her and place it next to my heart.
This is where it will stay for the next two weeks. And I will be standing at my mailbox every day, all day. Hoping that I will see the government
vehicle drive into my driveway, and dreading that I will receive a certified letter through the mail.
How will this turn out? Only you can say. Does she see her kid again, or does she receive a letter?
Majority rules. I will finish this next week based on what the majority of the replies say. If I get any replies. If not, I will finish it my way.