Children of the Fence (The forgotten Children)

Prologue

It was cold.
It was always cold in here.
And wet.
It was so cold that the ice ate away at my bones centimetre by centimetre. Every day, bit by bit.
I hadn't been able to see my hands for a long time, but I was sure they hung petrified in my shackles. The dried blood from yesterday, the day before and all the miserable time I had spent here stuck to them and sometimes, when it was fresh, it dripped onto my face. I couldn't remember for how long I had really been in here. Time didn't seem to exist. The nights never ended. Neither did the pain.
The only time light shone into the room was when they came in to see if I was still alive or had finally bitten the dust. Then the light was always so bright that my eyes watered at the sight of it.
I slept most of the time if my condition allowed it. There was nothing more to do.
From time to time, the pain-filled screams from the cells next door woke me up.

At first, every scream felt like a stab in the heart. But now, when I recognised the voice, I felt relief.
I dreaded it when the screams stopped forever. They all were my comrades, my confidants...
My friends.
But it got quieter and quieter every day.
I'm sure the others were relieved to hear me too.
They always heard me when the dark figures grabbed me and dragged me away with a bag over my head.
Shortly afterwards, my own screams started.
It felt like they were breaking every bone in my body, tearing my flesh to pieces and yet leaving enough of me for them to throw me back into my cell again and again.
But something other than that kept me alive.
I had an idea. A dream.
And I would get out of here for it. At any price.