Maybe You're the Reason Why

Chapter 6

I wake up, still curled up in a ball inside the testing room. I'm glad I was part of the last testing round and that the cleaners only come once all the test are done. Though my test only took about 15 minutes, some, if not most tests take anywhere from 5-8 hours on average. I stand up and grab the note, a shudder going through me as I do. I look at the time and see that it is currently 7:30 and that I should get going, despite my better judgment. I grab the letter and when I see the address again, my jaw clenches and I get a little light-headed thinking about the dream depicting my very vivid past. I shudder then swing my legs over the edge of the medical bed. I try to fix my hair a little bit before heading to the home of my childhood abuse. I may not like my future, but I can't change it. I will be the best I can be and try to make my life better regardless of my trauma. I grab my gas mask and put it on before I leave the compound and by the time I step outside, the sun has already started setting. I walk for about 15 minutes until it's there. I stop looking up at the building of my formative years. The building that kept me trapped and the building I escaped. I remember the boy that saved me that night. I see his smile and wonder where he is now. Did he manage to escape? Is he alive? Does he remember me as often as I think about him and that night? Probably not. I stop thinking about things that don't have an effect on my future and I take a deep breath in. As I exhaled, I take a step inside the building.

I walk in and the stench of whiskey and smoke fill my nose. I shudder as I remember the alcohol that used to drench me and the cigarettes that were put out on my skin. I look back down at the note and this time, I see the faint indent of writing that must be on the back. I flip it over and it reads,

It's alright Spitfire, you'll be alright. Trust your instincts.

Trust my instincts? What? My fingertips brush over the word Spitfire and a warm feeling envelops me. As I am reading the nine words on the back obsessively, somebody grabs my legs from behind and I go headfirst into a burlap sack. The burlap is peeling the top layer of my skin and I can feel the rash coming on. I get thrown into what feels like a small wagon and as I am being pulled to who knows where, the wheels are squeaking. I am frantically screaming and scratching the bag; trying anything to escape. Is this going to be my life from now on? I can feel my heart racing and a guy grumbles from the outside of the bag and delivers a quick, firm blow to the top of my head, and the little light coming through the bag starts to fade.