Lost

Allen's head is spinning. His consciousness gets pulled in and out. His body feels heavy and warm.

"What the fuck it's a kid"

"Of course, it's a kid didn't you see the contract"

He wants to go back to sleep…

He dreams of memories, of stories that span into the past, present and future, he dreams about people's lives, mundane, carefree, he dreams of war, of killing, of pain. He's content here, he feels like he's in the ocean, sinking slowly into the depths of time.

Something abruptly pulls him out of it and he jolts into awareness. He feels a wet liquid dripping down the strands of his hair and into his face and the searing pain in his arm.

"He's awake!"

He blinks out the spots in his vision and tilts his head up towards the person talking. The person is too old to be a child but too young to be a teenager. She has short curly ginger hair and freckles splashed across her face. She's wearing a simple hoodie and torn jeans, and in her hand is a bucket. She bends down to his level, placing the bucket down next to her.

"Hi," her voice sounds soothing, "I'm Bella. What's your name?"

"Allen," he says, looking around at the surroundings. He sees other children of various ages all huddled up and looking at him weakly. "Where am I?"

Bella stands up and begins walking to an old, rusty sink. "I dunno where we are but I'm certain we've been kidnapped by human traffickers." She puts down the bucket, "Some of us have been here for weeks."

Allen's heart leapt. He had to get out. He fumbled in his pocket for a sling ring only for it to be empty. He stood up, wincing at the pain that erupted from his chest and rushed to the metal door. He analysed it, looking for loose places on the large door, his small fingers fiddling with each screw but the thing was sturdy. Then he made his way to the walls, breaking apart the chipped paint and pushing the red bricks. It didn't budge. He kept trying, moving to different areas of the cell, pushing past the cluster of children.

"It's no use," one of them spoke up, a skinny boy with sandy hair. The other kids agreed.

But Allen ignored them and tried again. Again and again, until the walls were stopped bare and Allen's legs gave in. His temple itched and the palm that scratched it was covered in blood. His initial adrenaline was wearing off and now he's feeling dizzy. He forces himself to stand and with shaky steps, he reaches the door and pounds it. His body protested and his breath felt shorter. He feels his world tilting and then it went dark.

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He wakes again, in the same dimly lit cell but he can hear the other children chatting in hushed tired whispers. He struggles to sit up but when he does, he notices a large plate of leftovers and all the kids are crowding over it. When they noticed him they eye him warily, guarding the plate like a prized possession. His stomach gurgles uncomfortably at the smell of food. The familiar ache of hunger reminds him of old mouldy bread and a run-down apartment, dark walls and a waiting. He'd forgotten this feeling, Tony's safe blanket of security where he'd been able to eat as much as he wanted, whenever he wanted, dulled his tolerance to hunger. It felt like a punishment, a reminder of his past.

He sits there staring at the door, trying to ignore all the food that is quickly disappearing. His stomach growls loudly but he ignores it, and so do the other kids. Until one too many growls made them uncomfortable and they all looked at each other. They grabbed the smallest piece of food and gave it to Bella. She then walked over to Allen and handed it to him.

"They said your tummy is too loud." she shoves it into his hands and walks back to the food.

He tries not to cry when he munched on the pizza crust.

He misses home. He misses his master. He misses Tony.

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He doesn't know how long it's been. All the days blend and all he did was sit and meditate. Large burly men would enter occasionally and take a child. They easily fended off resisting children and left without a word. They entered with a purpose each time, the child already chosen within their heads. And when they take the child, they never return. Allen tried peeking out into the long corridor, but they'd always block him. All the other kids looked resigned.

Allen wanted to resist, and he did, but he was starting to feel tired. Sometimes he'd chat with the other kids but they all seemed scared of him.

"It's cuz you're covered in blood," Bella says. She was sucking on a piece of bone she kept from their last meal.

He looked at himself. His white uniform was caked in dried blood and his pants were no better. His body feels grimy and dirty as well. He had been too focused on trying to get out that he neglected his hygiene. But the place where the sink was wasn't a very desirable place to be. In a deep pit was the toilet. It reeked so much everyone made sure to sit as far as possible from it. Even the wooden plank that covered the hole wasn't good enough to stop the smell.

Allen held in a deep breath. Trudging quickly to the sink to grab a bucket of water then rushing back to his area. He stared at his reflection in the water. The lack of lighting made him squint a little, but he can make out his general face which was now covered in dried blood and a large cut on the side of his forehead. He carefully washed off the blood on his face, avoiding the wound, and then washed his body. Now that his body is free from the blood he inspected his wounds. He had cuts scattered around his body and in some of them, there were shards of tiny glass. He managed to pick out a few but others were too difficult. He sighed and used the remaining water to wash off his hair and clothes.

The other kids were much nicer after that.

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Only after Bella collapsed did Allen notice that she was sick. The other children rushed to her side and one of the older ones tended to her. Allen joined the crowd of kids huddling around Bella to see if she was alright. She wasn't. At night (or when all the kids decided to collectively sleep) Allen can hear Bella's wet coughs. She seemed weaker and paler each day.

Like the start of a domino, other kids began collapsing as well. They were all placed next to Bella and at night and even during the day, all their coughs were what echoed within the cell. More and more kids fell ill and Allen felt useless. He's read books on human anatomy before but what can he do? If someone asks him to label all the blood vessels within a heart he can do it easily but how can this knowledge help in curing whatever sickness is going around?

Each cough feels like a stab. A testimony of how weak and useless Allen is. Then a death happened. Lila, a little girl smaller than him, with blonde hair and a white sun dress that is now coated in dirt as her body lay in the corner. After her death, a thick atmosphere was present. Everyone feared that they would be next. Allen can only watch as everyone grew weaker, letting the older kids take care of the sick until they too fall sick.

Allen wakes up with a cough caught in his throat and a sense of dread fills his heart. His body feels weaker than before and every physical action feels twice as hard. He hides it. He doesn't want to go and lie down next to the rows of other sick kids, he doesn't want to be another sick patient who is just bidding their time.