My name is Erica Willow Barsen. If you are reading this then the worst has probably happened to me.

I am twenty four years old, living in Manhattan. Loki won the war. The city has been sealed so no one can get in or out. Women have been going missing in the night. I need to hide my identity, hide that I'm a woman, maybe I'll be safe.

Hopefully I'll make it through this.

I close my journal and turn to my brother.

"You ready?" He asks, holding the scissors in his hand.

"Yeah," I sigh.

He comes up behind me, giving me one last look before cutting almost all of my hair off. My hair had been down to my knees, now it will only be slightly longer than my shoulders.

I'm not going to be Erica anymore, I'm going to be just Eric.

I've always had more masculine than feminine features in my eyes. A sharp jaw, longer face, small eyes, and decently broad shoulders.

Standing at 5'11 I am taller than most women and given that I literally have no breasts, being without a shirt won't cause alarm.

That is how I sit now as Dominic cuts away at my hair, only in a pair of men's trousers.

It's taken me two weeks to finally be relatively comfortable going shirtless, but I'll need to get over the discomfort. Parading as a man, I'll have to do what the guards deem as men's work.

Our mother steps into the room just as Dominic finishes his task, her expression almost nervous.

"What?" I ask as I stand from the chair, swiping away any hair on my body. My voice isn't masculine but neither is it feminine, it's a mix of both that can pass as either.

"You almost look like.... him," she shutters a bit.

I step over to the mirror and look at myself.

It's odd to see myself without a top, having been raised to cover myself at all times, but as I scan over my features, I realize; I do look a bit like him.
Like Loki.

"It's kind of scary," I say, still looking at my body.

Though my face and build to resemble him, my muscular definition is no where near.

"We'll have to bulk you up a bit more so you can handle the work load," Dominic says, placing a hand on my shoulder, "but as long as no one is sticking their filthy hands down your pants, you should be fine. No one will question it.... Eric."

The name still feels foreign even though they've been calling me by it for two weeks now.

Dominic sweeps up the hair that lay on the wooden floor as mother comes and wraps her arms around me.

She's shorter than I am, since Dominic and I got our height for our father, only coming to my shoulders.

"Promise me you'll be careful," she whispers.

"I promise," I turn and hug her back.

"She'll- He'll be fine mum," Dominic corrects himself as he steps up beside us.

"And you need to be careful not to do that," mother scolds him.

"I know," Dominic sighs.

"It'll be okay, mum," I kiss her head, "we have two more weeks before the guards reach us, it'll be natural by then."

She nods, though I can still feel her worry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The main door is pushed open harshly as large alien guards barge in.

It's been just over two weeks, we knew this was coming.

Dominic and I rise from the table quickly, standing defensively in front of mother as the chill of the night air rushes into our small dining room.

"Have you any daughters?" One of the guards ask her, completely ignoring us.

"No," mother says meekly, "just my sons."

The guard looks between Dominic and I, his eyes lingering a bit on me before speaking.

"You will report to yard 13 tomorrow at dawn," he says harshly as the other two guards shove a set of boots and trousers at us, "if these do not fit, you will inform the head of the yard when you arrive. "

We both nod in understanding before they leave, slamming the door closed behind them.

I set the clothing aside and return to the table so that we may finish our meal. Dominic joins quickly there after.

I can feel mother's worry as it radiates through the room.

"It's going to be fine mum," I reach across the table to squeeze her hand lightly, "everything is going to be fine."