IN THE END ⇉ [MINHO] ✓

1 ☓ confusion all round

**Ellise is named after Lise Meitner, google her to know more about her :)**

It was either the squeaking of pulleys or the squealing of metal that awoke me. Either way, I was trapped inside a rectangular prism that was made of metal, that lurched upwards, making me feel uneasy as I tried to get up from my spot in a corner, my legs wobbled like I hadn't walked in years, my knees buckled making me crashing into the side of the wall. My stomach churned as I threw up, letting what was left of my stomach contents drip through the uncomfortable floor.

Ellise.

I pondered the thought of the name that had echoed through my aching head. I didn't feel like the name suited me, like it didn't belong. I screamed out in frustration as I flipped my mind upside down, shaking it like a tree I was trying to get apples from. Empty memories, memories with no faces, memories with no names. All I remembered was common sense and my first name. My whole idenity was held in front of me, but something yanked it away everytime I reached out for it. I yanked at my hair as I searched through my thoughts.

How can I have nothing?

The echo of the grinding metal continued as the box I was in pulled itself upward. The elevator crawled upwards at an increasing rate. I peered upwards, through the bars, looking for the source of light. A strip of light that was growing bigger as the box got closer to it was the only light source that illuminated my surroundings. Crates were stacked up in the other corners, the three corners that I wasn't huddled in.

Property of WICKED. What was WICKED? Were WICKED the people who put me in here? Or did they just supply all this stuff to wherever I'm going?

Screeching, squeaking, shaking, repeat. This went on for a while, I estimated half an hour at the least. I started to stand up, wobbling as I tried to catch my balance as I reached up to the top of the barred box. The box slammed against the top of the ground and I was thrown back onto the metal floor, rubbing my hands at the sudden impact. The sound of sliding doors came to my ears and the ground peeled back, letting more light into the box. I scrambled as far back as I could into the shadows as silhouettes crowded around the top of the opening.

"Where's the shuckfaced greenie?" a gruff voice muttered, a sense of authority in his tone.

Oh-no.

I didn't move, instead I tucked my legs closer to my chest and tried to hold my breathing to a minimum. Most silhouettes dispersed, slowly moving away from the top of the box, muttering things that I couldn't understand. Three boys jumped into the box, lifting out the crates and bags, their muscles straining as they passed them up and out to few other boys.

One huffed, wiping his brow, "Why wouldn't there be a bloody greenie?" this boy was clearly British.

Confusion swept over me as I recognised the accent, but I couldn't figure out how.

How could I remember where an accent is from but not where I'm from?

"I don't know slinthead, I'm just as confused as you," another blonde muttered, wiping his forehead.

A dark skinned boy, streched his neck, "A greenie once a month, it hasn't changed before, maybe they ran out of people to send?"

I winced, taken aback by his comment.

"Yeah right, if they ran out they'd probably send a girl instead of a boy," the British one chuckled.

Wait I'm a girl..I think.

"Well whatever, maybe they'll send one tomorrow, maybe they forgot the greenie," the dark skinned boy snickered.

The other blonde rolled his eyes, "Doubt it, something's off,"