Year 6 (First Draft) #Wattys2016

-Chapter 12-

   I’m sitting in a wobbly wooden chair, Amelia sleeping quietly in my arms when I hear something slide against the ground and bump into my shin.

   “I forgot to give this back to you,” Kane says, and when I look up, I see him taking a seat across from me.

   I bend down, setting Amelia in her box. She doesn’t fuss, but I can tell she’d rather be in my arms. I can’t blame her. Human presence is one of the biggest comforts in life. I feel a hallow ache in my chest. How long has it been since I was hugged? The last time I can remember was back on the day of my Abandonment, my Mom had pushed past the Government Agents and pulled me into her arms. Her tears had dripped into my hair, her whimpers had been like poison in my ears, filling me with an unrelenting dread. Yet, I hadn’t wanted her to let go.

   I try to not dwell on the past. It is what it is, and I can’t change that.

   Kane taps my knee and I look up, having almost forgotten he was here.

  “Is everything okay Newbie?” He asks, folding his arms behind his head. He crosses his legs at the ankles, looking relaxed, the polar opposite of how I feel.

  “No,” I say, sighing. I don’t feel like explaining myself though, so I keep my answer short and sweet. Kane doesn’t seem like the type to pry, so our conversation stays untouched for a few minutes while we both just sit.

  I try to ignore the ache in my temple as it thumps against my bones. Whatever Kane did yesterday with that cloth made my head feel a lot better, but now its effects are wearing off. I rub at the spot, hoping it will just go away.

  “Head bothering you?” Kane asks, his foot tapping to an imaginary beat on the concrete. He sends me a pointed look and I just nod. No need to play it tough.

  “We can get you something for that you know,” Kane says matter-of-factly. Again I just nod, my head exploding from the movement. Kane reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small patch. I look at him skeptically.

  He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He peels something off of the blue patch.

  “Come here,” He says, quietly, and my head thanks him.

  I lean forward until I am about a foot away from Kane. He tilts my head to the left so that he can press the patch to my right temple. I can’t help but wonder how he knew that was the one that had been bothering me the most. But then I remember the large gash on the right side of my forehead. He rubs his finger over the patch, pushing it into place. I sigh, the patch instantly working away at the ache.

  “Thank you,” I say. I can almost feel the medicine from the patch seeping into the side of my temple. I touch my fingers lightly to the patch, feeling it squish slightly under my fingers.

  “Don’t mention it,” Kane says, leaning back into his chair. He takes on an air of authority again, covering the nice and easy side of him. I feel myself hiding too, and I wonder if Kane, or any of the others for that matter, can sense my hidden side. The side that is willing to turn them in to the Government Agents if it ensures my future.