Coming Home

I was Five

I'm Reko, I'm thirteen now, but my life practically ended when I was five. I was kidnapped and snatched away from the only family I had. Which wasn't much to start with, I had four older siblings, all of them were twins, two seven, and two nine. You are probably thinking that we were too young to live alone, but Jago, who was nine. Was a total genius. Along with Nat, who was seven. We got along most of the time, and if we didn't, it never lasted long. I was youngest, but that didn't matter, I studied just as hard. That is until everything came to an abrupt end.

I woke up, finally, after a week. I was tied to a chair and I couldn't see because of a blind fold. Being a five year old, I started sobbing. I wanted Jago back, I wanted my siblings, the ones that's cared about me. Little did I know, I wouldn't be seeing them for eight years.

I lived there, I never talked, I went mute. No one cared anyways, but they did feed me a daily serving of crackers. I never put a foot out of line, knowing there was a harsh punishment. I recorded the stars and moon and stuff, because they needed it for whatever they were doing, which I never did find out. Years and years past. I lost all hope in anyone ever finding me, when they handed me a newspaper. They had found a body and identified it to be mine. I never knew they would be as cruel as to fake my own death and make a stunt like that.