This story is science-fiction/fantasy. It's currently a wip, so I'll try and add more to it each week. It's basically about a teenage girl who ends up being a prisoner of war when war breaks out in her country. She has no parents. This is about 1000 years ahead of our time, so things will be much more high-tech.

Chapter 1

A girl, no older than 15, sits with her back to a worn brick wall, staring into nothingness. A large dog sits beside her, a mutt, its sad blue eyes also staring at nothing. The dog looks half-starved, its ribs noticeable through its thick coat of fur, now dirty and patchy. Gunshots are heard in the distance, but the two pay no attention. Finally, the girl rises and runs her fingers through her long blonde hair, matted and dirty. She makes a low whistling noise, and the dog slowly rises to it's paws. The girl grabs her bag, tattered and heavy, and slings it over her shoulder. Rapid footsteps are heard close by. Instinctively, she sprints to a large dumpster, and crawls behind it, dragging the dog by it's collar into the hiding place. She puts her finger to her lips, and listens closely to the footsteps. They get very loud, but then the footsteps get quieter and finally they go silent. Confident the soldiers had left, the girl squeezes out from behind the dumpster, and once again half-drags the dog out. "Come on boy." she murmurs. She releases her grip on the collar, and begins to walk down the old worn path into the forest.
She reached an old bridge that was starting to sag, and half of the railing was torn off. Graffiti littered the bridge, and there was so much of it la[injection]yered on, it just looked like a big mess. The bridge was above a small stream, that was once a large river, but since the war started the rebels created dams to prevent any water from coming to the east side, where the people were suffering the most. She continued to walk until she reached the bridge. She started to slide down the bank, down into the small dirty dry spots where the stream didn't run. She brushed the dirt and wet moss that clung to her ripped jeans, stained and old. The dog was reluctant, whining and refusing to follow. The girl climbed up the sharp rocky hill once more, lifting the dog easily because it was so starved. Sliding down, she landed on her feet with a thud. She dropped the dog and it instantly went to drink the water from the stream, even though it was likely stagnant. The girl felt a sharp pain in her elbow, and ran her fingers down her left arm. Sure enough, when she reached her elbow, her fingers touched blood. Looking in her jean pockets for gauze or anything to wrap it up, she pulled a note. It read,

Dear Tammy,

Your father and I have been captured by the rebels, and let us write one letter to one person we loved.
We both decided to send this to you, as our parting words. We will likely work as slaves, or they will kill us, but that's not what matters. You need to take care of yourself. We heard the rebels talking about bombing the east side in a month. You have to grab whatever you need to survive from our house and get out of there, somehow. Take Duchess with you, but leave Mittens the cat. She would just slow you down. Duchess can be a game dog, and if worse comes to worse, you can kill her for food. The guards are screaming at me now, so I'll have to cut this letter short. We love you. Good luck.

Mother and Father

Reading it again made Tammy angry. She ripped the note into countless pieces and threw them into the stream, screaming curses and kicking the pebbles into the stream. The dog barked loudly and began to nudge Tammy. Tammy sat down finally and sighed. She continued to search her pocket for bandage, but was unsucessful. It didn't really matter that much, since it seemed to have stopped bleeding. Duchess continued to lap from the stream, tail wagging slowly. Tammy set down her back, looking through it. She had a sleeping bag crammed into it, a light jacket, a lighter, food in a can, a brush, and a small knife, with a wooden carved handle. Taking off her lace up boots with a small wedge, she wiggled her toes in her long white socks. Taking off her socks, damp with sweat, she set them by the stream. Then finally, she removed her dirty sweater, then brushed off the dirt on her plain white cotton t-shirt. pulling the sleeping bag out, she unrolled it and climbed in, zipping it up. By now it was well past 8pm, and she would have to get up early before rebels would move in for battle. Duchess padded up to Tammy, laying down ontop of her feet and falling asleep almost instantly. Tammy closed her eyes, and before she knew it, she was asleep.

Chapter 2

Intense bright light, women and men it white uniforms, jabbing needles into veins. Faint howling of a dog in the distance. This is a nightmare. But it's real. I try to scream, but they've taped my mouth shut. I try to kick out with my legs, but convienently restraints have been placed on my arms and legs. The faint howling is Duchess, I know it. They must have captured me, somehow. Finally they turn out the light. Or maybe they don't, and I drift into unconciousness.
I wake up in a bed, and a simple cotton sheet is covering me. The restraints have been removed, but I know I'm still somewhere in rebel territory. I sit up weakly, feeling dehydrated and starved. Bandages wrap around my wrists up to my elbow, where they where jabbing needles into. I see a lump on the ground in the corner of the room with a smaller cotton blanket over it. I climb out of the bed, almost falling over. Clinging onto the edge of the bed, I touch the lump. It rises to its feet, and looks at me with cold eyes. I realize it is Duchess instantly and lift her up and cover her in strokes and hugs. She only looks pained, looking straight into my eyes with the same cold, ex[injection]pressionless look. I clap, expecting her to bark but she simply opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. I know what they did, but I can't accept it. I know they cut out her vocal cords and gave her a neurotoxin to wipe her memory clean, but I can't think of it. All I can think of is when she was happy, tounge lolling out and rolling around the grass in the hot summer sun. Before I even am aware of it, I'm bawling. Screaming at Duchess, and I even kick her. She simply stands there, and does nothing. Then, a young man about a year older than Tammy walks into the room, wearing shiny black army boots, cargo pants, and a black leather jacket with a grey t-shirt. He sits on the edge of the bed, and stares out of the one window in the room. He doesn't even say anything to Tammy, just sits there. Duchess sniffs at the ground before trotting out of the room. "Who are you?" Tammy asked. "Are you going to torture me or kill me? I don't care." He looked at Tammy. "Me? I'm just like you. I'm trapped here. A prisoner. You were to kid of those parents who got executed in front of the rescue party that came for them. They were going to do the same to the rescue party, but what did they do? They gave me up so they could escape." He smiles for a second, but then says, "You could have atleast introduced yourself. I'm Gale." Tammy lets out a sigh. "I'm Tammy." She stands up, looking down at her slippers and pajamas, courtesy of the rebels. "Will we ever get out of here?" she asked. He nodded. "I've been waiting for you to snap out of your trance. I was afraid they'd killed you when you kept screaming. You probably weren't aware of it, I'm sure, but you punched a guy so hard you almost broke his neck. I'm sorry about your dog, I know how it feels." Tammy looked at her feet, and then looked at him. "How do you know I feel? Do you know what it feels like to lose everything you love and have it thrown in the trash? Have you ever just wished to die yourself?" Gale put his head in his hands, and let out a long sigh. "I know. Trust me, I do. But stop thinking about that, just for now. We have to get out of here." Tammy stood up and shook her head. "I'm not leaving without my dog. Even though she doesn't even know who I am, I don't care. I'm not leaving without her." Gale swore under his breath. "Damnit! You have to forget about your past! You have to trust me! She is nothing to you now! Nothing!" He screamed. Tammy walked over and slapped him, and then stormed out of the room.

Chapter 3

Tammy slept in her bed, a spilled glass of water on the ground. She woke up groggily, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She got up, avoiding the puddle of water and glass on the ground. She walked down the hallway, and saw Duchess sleeping at the foot of two soldiers, chatting with each other. Tammy confidently walked up to them and asked, "What will this dog be used for?" The soldiers looked at each other for a moment. Then one said, "Good question. She might be our next bomb dog, but I reckon' she's been through to much to do that. I think she'll just be one of our meals. She was your dog, wasn't she?" Tammy frowned. "Yes, she was. But she's not what she was. Kill her for all I care, you savage people mean nothing to me. The damage has been done." 

Ah. Always make that mistake. Thanks for the critique though! It really helps!