A 'Deaf' For a Death

CHAPTER 01:

Screams pierced the musty air that lingers in the confined space with walls as thick as tree trunks, trapping the poor youths inside, most on the verge of death... Crimson blood spatters across the blank white tiles... The sound of a gunshot echoes all around... It's getting closer, the putrid scent of the chemicals wafting in the once pure air... the smell is so... overpowering...

In a state of panic, my eyes snap open, taking in the pitch black darkness of my bedroom. My hand rests over a damp patch on my sheets. Great, it's that dream, again(!) 

I am more relaxed now, taking deep breaths to calm the rising emotions. Slowly, I heave myself out of bed; craning my neck to get a good look at my alarm clock. The digits on there cast an eerie green glow on the bleak walls next to me. 

Just like any other school morning, I grasp for my hearing aids I wear every day, as per usual. When pushing the mould in, I carefully loop the tubing around my ear, before hearing the satisfying tune of this genius device turning itself on.

Clearly in a rush, I wolf down the remaining contents of my cereal bowl: two lonely bars of Weetabix sitting in a pool of milk. I reach out for my school bag, realising about the History homework on the Cold War. Mr. Christopher will seriously flip out! 

Tapping Mum's shoulder, I sign in frantic motion with rushed handshapes and a deep frown embedded on my forehead. Mum sighs and responds with a collected look on her face. 

"Well, Dante, you could always do it at lunchtime." she suggests. Relief washes over me as I grab my bag and kiss Mum, signing a farewell gesture as I leave out my front door, closing it behind me.

With my bag slung across my back, I trudge along the concrete paths that form my street and surrounding neighbourhood. My hearing aids pick up the breeze of the morning air with the continuous revving of cars passing by. 

Suddenly, a chunky jet-black van swerves around my street and accelerates at full speed, zooming past houses that I knew. The vehicle pulls up to where I am standing, gawking at what the hell happened. As the double doors slide open, two middle-aged men who are heavily built, step out. They both have matching black overalls with polished black boots that gleam under the sunlight. Both males have their hair fashioned in a crew-cut style, complete with matching black shades to conceal two steely glares. 

"Kid, you're coming with us," one of them growls. "So put your hands behind your back. Now." Bewilderment comes kicking in. I try to lipread the two angry-looking men, but to no avail. 

"Aw, look Jerry, the kid's a Mute, can't you see?" croons the second man. 

"Shut up, Steve," snaps Jerry, "Remember our mission..."

 I have no idea what these men were conferring since they were whispering very quietly in gruff tones. A split second later, two pairs of muscular arms tackle me down and pin me to the hood of the large van. One of the attackers, presumably Jerry, retrieves a mucky rag and stuffs it in my gaping mouth which is hopelessly hanging out. Hastily, the duo wrench me into the boot of their van, slamming the back exit shut, before I can react. 

The air in here is so bad with all the dust hanging there, that I start to cough quite feverishly; the putrid smell of chemicals flooding me out... Wait a minute... The putrid chemicals?  I am having a serious case of deja vu... 

Soon enough, the violent shudder of the van is enough to cry myself to sleep, knowing that there is no escape. And what is worse: there is no going back...