"I didn't do it," I plead to him, "I swear papa, I found it like this!" I show him the wounded bird. He shushes me, using a towel to pick it up, "I didn't know it was in trouble. I only wanted to play with it...I didn't know it would get hurt."
"Mila, shush, it's alright. It just went into the glass, it'll be fine. We'll take it to Banner he fixes everything—."
"It'll die and it's all my fault. I'm a bad person."
Dad sits down, carefully showing me the bird, "Milana, sweetheart, the bird will live. It was an accident. Come here, touch its wing, it's just a little shocked that's all." I hesitantly touched the wing of the bird and gulp, "You're not a bad person, I promise, Mila."
Mila.
"Wake up already," I flinch opening my eyes. Bextley was leaning over me, hitting me in the cheek, "God, you sleep like you're dead. If you get me in trouble, I'll kill you in your sleep." I stare at her, then slowly sit upright.
I rub the back of my neck, cringing in pain. I do not like sleeping on wood. I look at the end of the bed and saw clothes like Bextley's. I pick them up and walk around the corner to change into them.
They didn't help with the cold as much as I had hoped they would. It was some black pants and a white cami. I look at myself, touching the bumps on my arms. Did I kill something last night?
I turn to the door as the large metal lock is pulled up, letting the door open. Bextley shoved her way through the crowd of children. I roll my eyes but followed behind her. She's so rude.
I passed by a few of the other rooms, they were smaller than ours, I guess Bextley is better than them. I saw Noah staring into one of the rooms as well, I go to him, turning into the room.
A boy's body hung from the ceiling with the sheets from his bed strung to the only light in the room. I stare at it, then look at Noah, "It's the second time this week," He whispers. "Sometimes they just swallow the nails from the bed to make it more bloodied. I actually prefer it."
"Was he your friend?"
He shakes his head, "No. He's too weak for this," I look at his body, "I'll get the ladder." He walks away. I don't want to leave just yet. I walk into the boy's room, touching his hand. He's so cold. The boy dangled helplessly, almost reaching out to me. I sigh, "может он принесет тебе мир." I say to him.
"You." I turn to the door and saw a man looking at me with a strange smile on his face, "Come with me. Now."
"I didn't do it."
"Get over here," I leave the boy alone and walk over to the man. He woe a sharp suit, far too clean to be in this disgusting room. One bad scrap on these walls and he'll be all dirty, "Good to see you survived."
He picks up a long black cane with a red crystal on the handle, he walks by my side, pressing his hand against my back, "Who are you?" I whisper.
"Think of me as a friend. I knew your parents."
"I didn't kill that boy."
"No, I watched him do it to himself. Pathetic right?" I glance up at him, still walking by his side. There was something off about the way he spoke to me. He talked to me with a sweet tone but I can't help but want to run away from him.
"What's your name?" I ask politely.
"You can call me Professor Teague. I am the man behind this whole...organisation."
"Why am I here?"
"You were raised here. Since you were a little girl, I have raised you to be my perfect soldier. You do realise how special you are, don't you?" I stare back at him. I don't even have a name. Or family. Or memories.
