The Orphans

We walked hours through the dark forest. Only once in a while, we would find a spot of light, a little spark from the sun which somehow finds is path trough the endless screen of leaves of the large trees that put anything to shame. From the thick branches, the birds were glancing at us, as they war unmoved statues, never flinching, never making a sound, standing in a world of darkness, waiting for the opportunity to grab us and take us whit them, so we will become the statues and they would start moving freely in our place. The sent of moss and grass were rarely interrupted by a strange smell of rot, which comes often after the little spark of light. The forest was so dark that, even whit a torch, you could barely see anything farther than you could starch your hand.

In the end, we finally got on a road. the forest suddenly splits in half and a tiny country road is in the middle of it. The trees were still casting a shadow on the road, but at least now we could see where we war going. Somewhere within the forest the conversation between Chop and Ben stopped and both of them became quiet. However, we war now almost in the city so the conversation suddenly started again. This time it was Chop who started the conversation.

"Hey, Ben. After we enter the city you will be called Burn. And we are kind of brothers so don't treat me like a stranger. Understand?"

"Yes, yes, I understand boy, you don't have to tell me twice. But will you be ok? I mean, you need to pretend that you are brother whit, someone, you don't know."

"I don't need to pretend. Even if you are here now, my brother is in that body, isn't he? I just need to hope and never give up. He will come back eventually."

"Yeh boy. Never give up! When you give up the game is over and it will never start again."

"Yeh, I know that. And stop calling me boy! You are my brother. Well kind of."

"Oh yeh. Sorry about that. But how should I call you? Should I call you bro, or maybe brother?"

"Well no. When it is only the two of us you can call me Chop, but in the city call me 1 21."

"1 21? Why? What are whit the numbers?

"Well, you will see."

As we approached the gate a guard come to us and asked about our permits. That was the point where I realized the truth about the two brothers. On the permit, under the words father and mother were written two things. Under mother was written DEATH and under father was written UNKNOWN. These two boys were orphans, whit no one to care for them, exactly like I was my entire life. An orphan, no one's child, whit no one to have my back. But unlike them, at there age, I already find my place in the world. I become slowly going up the ranks, and at the age of 21, I was the youngest mafia leader in the country, maybe in the world. At least I had a purpose, but they joust struggle to live from one day to another. This is so messed up.

In the end, the guards let us through, and Chop got us straight to the church. A tall building that was covering a big area, a surface of at least 25 square meters. The church had thick walls coded in white painting on the outside and full of all kinds of drawings on the inside one prettier than the other. The huge windows were sparkling, glowing whit a golden light, whit big drawings of different kinds of beasts on them, beasts that I never saw before. A huge statue of a dragon whit two heads was standing on top of the main entrance. And then:

"1 21 come here for a second!" Said a priest in a black robe, built white golden lines, along with it with a single silver line that was standing on his shoulders.

"Yes, Father." Said the boy and then he rushed to the priest. "What can I help whit father?"

"Well 1 21. We have a new brother here. It is 8 06. Could you show him around the Church?

" Of course Father." He said. And whit that I understood that this Church was in fact the orphanage and these kids were all orphans.

What was even worst, they were stripped of all their rights. They had one day of brake a week, the rest of the time working for the Church, they were wearing some filthy robes, forced to do hard labor and on top of that they had no name, they were called by their birthday. first the month and then the day, and for their family names they had the year of birth, like some lowlife animals.

Well, I will not get that. I will not just stand around as these kids are treated so badly!

I need to do something fast!