Obliterated (h.s)

t w o

T W O- Abroad

I had been restrained within this horrendous vehicle for approximately two minutes, and all of my sanity had already been lost.

I plunged my fists into the metal chamber I was sealed in. My pleas and screams of desperation echoing off the brisk walls. The petite child and older woman watching cautiously as I proceeded to wail in anguish. My breathing had quickly alternated into hyperventilation, heart practically leaping towards my throat.

Finally, after a few more longing seconds of frantic banging, I subsided. My back reluctantly gliding down the metal wall in misery, all while I sunk down towards the floor. Coiling into a quivering fetal position.

I allowed my gaze to fall upon the boy and the woman. Their dark orbs studying my own. Obviously a bit rattled at my frazzled state.

"Why aren't you trying?" I exhaled, shaking my head with displeasure, "we need to get out of here."

"There's no use," the woman snapped harshly, "it's impossible to get out. And, even if we did escape somehow, the Reinforcers would catch up with us. We'd be Withdrawn."

I scoffed, "What if being Withdrawn is better than wherever we're going?"

"What if it isn't?" The child chimed in, his glossy eyes shimmering mildly within the dark space.

I stared at him for a moment. His sleek black hair about covering the entirety of his forehead. The boy's small, fragile fingertips fiddling with nerves in his lap. And, the muddy jeans he wore looked as if they were a size too big, along with his oversized top. A drastic, wide, tear also decorated the sleeve of his shirt. Yet, it was nothing a needle and thread couldn't fix.

As for the woman beside the kid, she sat in a pair of dark maroon pants. Her frizzy, tangled hair sitting obscurely upon the top of her head, all while she wore an icy expression. Obviously not at all thrilled to be here, though nor was I.

I breathed out in annoyance, rubbing my sore, tired eyes timidly, "If where we are going is even remotely decent, then why did they shove us into the back of a black van? And why did they have guns? I just don't have a good feeling about this, that's all I'm saying."

The woman did nothing but sneer at my statement, turning in the opposing direction. Yet, the boy remained focused on my features. His bows furrowed in concentration.

I figured I may as well speak to the child. For, he seemed very young, and very afraid. I was almost certain that if I were him, I would be bawling erratically. But, not only did I wish to console him, but I wanted answers. If I get the both of them talking, I may be able to piece a few things together.

I swallowed roughly, licking my lips subtly, "how old are you?"

The young boy hesitated momentarily, before quietly murmuring his response, "ten. . . and a half."

I visibly cringed at his young age. Feeling sympathy towards the small boy. He had so much to live for, yet he was torn away from his friends and family far too soon.

"Your name?"

Again, he paused. Obviously reluctant to share any personal information with me. But, nevertheless, he slowly but surly replied, "Anthony."

I nodded, attempting myself to look as approachable as I possibly could. Although, it was quite a difficult task to complete at the moment. Being that I was covered from head to toe in dirt and my cheeks were stained with salty tears, "Okay, Anthony. What Station are you from?"

"Two."

I hummed, pleased with his cooperation. Then, I turned towards the woman. In whom was already shooting daggers with her hazel eyes.