Unusual

11

And just like that I spent the rest of the day crying and thinking, wanting to be home more than ever. Just as I stopped crying, the doors opened and loud screams filled the air. They belonged to a girl, and not Jade.

From where I was, all I saw was a mob of men trampling over each other with a girl. It was blonde, with a large curl atop her head. As they grew closer I saw her green, almost gray from crying, eyes and bloody lip. She was fighting against them but she was too weak and restrained for anything to happen. Screams and laughs, some annoyed grunts, kept filling the building as she was pushed head first in here.

Initially, my first thought was if she knocked out from the impact, but when she heard the door lock shut, she screamed in fear, so I knew she was fine. Even though I didn't know her, I went to hug her. Obviously she went through a tough time and needed to calm down. No doubt her head would afflict a pounding headache within a couple hours.

Her body trembled severally as she drowned in her own mind and feelings. My hands rubbed against her shaking arms as she hugged me for her life, and cried into my chest. It took an hour and a half for her to calm down. By the time the tears stopped gushing, she fell asleep curled in a ball with her head on my lap.

---

I woke up before she did. It took about two hours before she started to turn in her sleep; and for those two hours I sat in my same position, not daring to wake the poor girl. I knew she was Alice Ruth Wilson. Her documents surfaced to my mind when I scrutinized her.

One picture was of a girl with blonde hair. Under it was a name, Alice Ruth Wilson, that was highlighted. There was her birthday, age, location of living and some other information. My eyes started to widen when I realized this was a profile of someone, and that someone could be a victim. Once I lifted the front paper up there was another picture. Another one laid under it and more under that one too.

Alice's eyebrows creased together and slowly, tears streamed down her closed eyes. I went to rub them away, but when she felt my finger try to comfort her, she rolled around so the back of her head faced me.

"Alice." I cooed. Almost immediately she pushed herself off of my thighs.

"H-how do you know my name?"

"My name is Harry."

"How do you know my name, Harry." She objected. "Are you with them?"

"No of course not. I found a profile of you. You're Alice Ruth Wilson, born August 5 1934, kidnapped from New York. I'm Harry Edward Styles, born February 1 1933, kidnapped from New York too." 

Alice didn't say anything back. Instead, she backed up and sat across from me. We looked each other in the eyes. "You know I wouldn't've believed you if you didn't smell like garbage and look like you were beaten up? What happened to your eye?"

"I can't remember." Truth was, I didn't remember what happened after I was whipped. Everything after that got buried under my brain. "I think I fell on it or something."

"Are you okay? Pain wise?" She sincerely questioned.

"I have to be."

"What do you mean?"

Ignoring her question that brought up unwanted memories, I questioned her. "How're you holding up, Alice?"

"Well I guess I have to be okay too. I'll make it, though I want to go home...so bad. Why am I here?"

I hesitated. Should I tell her? She hasn't even been here a day and I didn't know how she would take it. Then I realized she would find out eventually, and it's better to be able to emotionally prepare before it actually happens. "Experiments."