Adrian Cohen

The atmosphere dull and soundness. Misty and cold like it was winter. Dark clouds hung oppressively low in the sky. Adrian found himself in a shadowy place, he was standing on a castle's watchtower without any way down. Made up of dark stone, several story high. Most of its parts were not visible to the eyes being mist-covered, environment but he liked it. A dream and an escape for tortuous reality.

Adrian sat on the down, staring at the mist. He liked it here, he liked the silence in melancholy. A whistling noise entered his ears. He jumped and stood on his feet.

*STUD*

He caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure moving in the dark mist from his side of his eye.

Adrian's heartbeat rose, getting faster which each passing second, his body became still. He didn't turn, just stood there and stared at the misty darkness. There was something, dark shadowy looking at him, using the mist to hide.

Echoing feminine laughter filled the area around him. He heard the whistling of the wind again as the shadowy figure moved passed his face, his eyes too slowly to keep track and make something out of it.

'Am I going crazy?' Adrian thought. Seeing things that aren't there. Hearing things.

Echoing feminine laughter filled the area around him. He heard the whistling of the wind again as the shadow moved passed his face, his eyes too slowly to keep track. Then he felt the ghostly giggling coming from behind. Adrian took a deep breath and exhaled, forming a tiny cloud in the cold air. Then he came to face to face with it.

The mist took shape- translucent ghostly figure— tall as him— hovered up from over the edge of the tower near Adrian. Most around her took, the figure had taken the shape of a young girl—with an angular face and long, flowing hair that faded into the mist behind her head.

She—Adrian couldn't help but think of the mist as she—was formed of silver and whites and wore a simple, flowing white dress of a girlish cut that came down to midcalf. Like the hair, it faded to mist at the very bottom. Her feet, hands, and face were crisply distinct, and she had the look of a slender girl.

Adrian's eyes widened in fear, he looked back there was nothing behind hom but open air. She floated up, hovering though she had no wings, and looked him in the eyes. "Adrian?"

Adrian's eyes widened.

"Oh!" the ghostly feminine voice said. "What's that?"

She smiled mischievously, then sprang away, her figure blurring into a long white ribbon of silver-white light around him.

Adrian back away from her, he stopped as he reached the edge.

"You might fall, Adrian," she said, folding translucent arms.

"Cold," said that same feminine voice. "You like it a lot, don't you?"

It's been a recurring dream and the figure had appeared many times before. Adrian had once spent a week in isolation. During that time he had no one to talk to this figure. But it was always once sided effort from him, the girl always appeared and remained, still like a statue. There wasn't any answer given, until now. It was embarrassing but with no one talk to it made things easier.

"So why don't you fight?" she asked, flitting down her hands on his shoulders, looking up at his face. She had no weight that he could feel.

Adrian jumped, twisting to the side in fear. The spirit stood in the air just opposite to him, white dress rippling in a wind Adrian couldn't feel.

The spirit didn't say anything. She walked on air over to the edge, then poked her head out, watching the scenery beyond the dark castle's wall which was covered in mist. She looked back at Adrian. "Why don't you fight? You did before. Now you've stopped, " she said in a ghostly voice.

Adrian was pale, he was back on the edge with nothing but open air beside him, he couldn't run or scream. He stopped for a minute and then looked at the translucent face. Then he replied, "I_ I don't know."

"Well I don't either," she said. First, her arms, then her face and then everything of hers dissipated into the dark mist.

**************************

-Unknown Location-

Light hanging above peeked on Adrian's face. He half expected the guard's voice; telling him to get up. The light pulsed against the boy's clenched eyelids.

He didn't want to get up. Just wanted to be in his position while the world moved on. He opened his eyes. The boy watched the little wisp of silver light dance in the air. He stared at it until it filled his vision. When he looked away he felt the darkness of his new dark cage, the floor below cold to the touch. Because of the movement down below and bleak grey metal surrounding he judged that he was in a vehicle.

He looked at his side, another boy two meters away was chowing down on some green custard-like substance with his spoon. He had his choker on, just like Adrian. The metal that drained his strength, rendering him powerless.

"Hey, " the boy whispered. Adian looked at the scrawny boy who looked to about his age.

"You are not like others." The boy's eyes scanned the red marks on Adrian's exposed arms in his sleeves hoodie. The first one was made a few days ago when tried to fight off one guard, the old ones when he tried to escape his captivity, third ones were of yesterday; when the guard just wanted to take his anger out on him while transferring him to another cell.

"I heard the guards talking, " the boy said as he shuffled closer to Adrian. "You have tried to escape. How far were you successful?"

Adrian didn't reply.

"Look, " the boy said. "Take me with you next time, " he whispered. "Together we have a better chance of getting out of here." Adrian sighed at the boy. No one else could do this, this was something only he could see as far he knew. He didn't have any wounds. Looks like he was just a newly captured. Still hadn't suffered the pain he had.

Adrian looked away, looking at the light coming from the beyond the bars. He rested his body on the bars and kept staring at the light.

"Well?" the boy asked.

"You are being an idiot. Do you think we get out of here?"

"But-"

"Fourteen times, " Adrian whispered. "Fourteen tries in six months, transferred between seven cells. How many of them worked out?"

"Ah... You are still here."

Six months. Six months held as a captive. Weekly beatings. Adrian still wasn't sure about the time. It felt an eternity to him. "You can't get out," Adrian said. "Trust me, I have tried again and again. I failed, again and again, I ended right back where I began. In a cell." He felt angry, he didn't know the exact reason, tired he just felt angry.

Once, people had called him lucky. Lucky. Those had been lies—if anything, Adrian had bad luck. Curses are still superstitious, and though he'd initially resisted that way of thinking, it was growing harder and harder. First Ren... then every friend he had made in his captivity ended up dead. Time and time again. And now, here he was, in an even worse situation than where he'd begun. It was better not to resist. This was his lot, and he was resigned to it.

There was a certain power in that, freedom. The freedom of not having to care.

The boy eventually realized Adrian wasn't going to say anything further, and so he retreated, eating his slop. They already noticed by the motion and surrounding that they were currently in a vehicle. The truck continued to roll, fields of green extending in all directions. The area quite scheduled.

Adrian sighed and turned away. The boy hesitantly sat near him. "Mind if I ask how you ended up here, friend? Can't help wondering."

"First, your story."

"Mine? I was being an idiot. Ran away from home, made some stupid and even more stupid decision. Then I ended up here."

Adrian rolled his eyes and said, "I went out to get some fresh air and later ended up in a van."

He shook his head, then stopped answering the talkative boy's any other questions. The boy eventually wandered to the front of the cage and sat down, staring at his bare feet.

Hours later, Adrian still sat in his place, caressing his wounds. This was his life, day in and day out, riding in these cursed carriers.

His first wounds had healed long ago, but the skin around the burn was red, irritated, and crusted with scabs. It hurt even worse than the burn had when he grabbed the heated handle of a cooking pot as a child.

His latest wounds were the product of a fiery rod. The parts of the wound that had scabbed over pulled at his skin, making his forearm feel tight. He could barely pass a few minutes without scrunching his skin and irritating the wound. He'd grown accustomed to reaching up and wiping away the streaks of blood that trickled him; his right forearm was smeared with it.

"I'm so tired." He didn't mean the physical fatigue, though eight months eating leftovers had stolen much of the lean strength he'd cultivated. He felt tired. Even when he got enough sleep. Even on those rare days when he wasn't hungry, cold, or stiff from a beating.

'You have been tired before.' he thought to himself.

"I've failed," he replied, squeezing his eyes shut

Adrian jolted as he felt a sting on his neck, bringing him from the unconscious to conscious and back to the unconscious state. There was no castle this time, just darkness. The comfort he found in his delusions disappeared. Just darkness.