Growing Up A Legend

One

I'm ten with such a simple name as Daniel and I shouldn't have to go through such things, but I did because I failed. I failed the goddy trials.
Memories and moments flood my mind and I have to wonder if this is what being dead is like, to watch flashes of your life happen again. It's a terrible thought to think I'm dead, but it seems to be only a fact. I dream of times with my family, with my dad at some points. Then I relive the agonizing moments before this unconsciousness. They go like this:
I'm in the Los Angeles Central Hospital's lab, kept with several other kids who had failed the trials, all strapped to gurneys and all blinded by fluorescent lights above us. Doctors wearing face masks hover above and move among us. I want to know why I'm being kept awake...but I feel so slow and the lights are too bright...and my body doesn't seem to want to cooperate.
Metal glints in the light and I soon recognize it as a knife, a scalpel. Holding the objects, the doctors share a mess of mumbled words. Next I feel a sharp pain in my knee as a cold and metallic object touches it. I try to scream at the doctors, but nothing comes out.
After that, they still continue with the terror. I think they inject something in my eye and it isn't too pleasant. While they begin to do things with my head, they also begin to make me consume some liquid and I don't seem to have time to refuse before I slowly go unconscious. Meanwhile, I begin to realize that the bodies on the other gurneys are no longer moving as doctors wheel them out and I barely process what that might mean for me when it becomes too late.
Then there's other memories after that. More of my family. It occurs to me that I will never get to see my family again because I'm dead and it saddens me. All because I failed the trials.
Then, to my surprise, I wake up maybe by accident. Not in some sobbing or gasping fit someone might come from after a nightmare of some kind, but I just open my eyes and hot tears threaten to spill out onto my cheeks. The first thing I'm able to notice is the goddy screaming pain in my knee that makes me want to cry, but my instincts tell me it's better to remain quiet. I'm in a dim room, laying on a concrete floor, and the air is humid. I manage a small glance around the area. Around me, dark, motionless figures are laid out on the ground like I'm laying, then there are people in lab coats inspecting each figure and scribbling on paperwork while doing so. This can't be good.
I quickly make sure to close my eyes and leave tiny slits that cannot be noticeable in this light, but I can see through. The adults in lab coats check me over as quickly as the rest and I remain limp and silent the whole time until their footsteps and mumbles of conversation exit through a door and the sounds fade behind the walls. I even lay there a little longer, not sure what to do next. My knee seems to hurt too bad to walk and I still haven't trusted the idea that I'm alive.
In my mind, I command myself to get up, get out, and I do just that. I push myself off of the ground then tear a strip of my pant leg off to wrap my knee in. When that's done, I stumble over the fleshy bundles on the ground because of my injury until I reach a wall.
The lights in this place are still on, but I need a wall to guide me to a door when the tears of pain blur my vision. I allow a quick glance back at the bundles on the floor and manage to gather some features. I'm shocked to see the kids at my age, pale faced, closed eyes, laying there.
I fall onto my bad knee when I approach steps going up and let out a yelp that echoes against the walls. Imagining people hearing me and rushing in to grab me, kill me for real this time, I use all my remaining strength to crawl up the steps. There's a door at the top, to my luck, that leads outside into the bright daylight. I sigh, thinking I'm safe, but I'm not because this is a hospital that soldiers patrol both inside and outside. I tell myself that I cannot get caught, not now.
I try my feet again, walking then running, until I trip a good distance from where I was. This time I scream from the pain of my injured knee and know that I cannot go much further. I'm in an alley, fortunately. This area I'm in seems pretty much uninhabited at the moment. Then I hear running footsteps and am panicking again. The soldiers are here to get me, I just know it. I wedge my small, slim ten year old body behind some trashcans in the alley as a hiding place.
As soon as they pass, I think, I'm going to get out and somewhere safe. Suddenly, I feel incredibly tired, though. No matter how hard I try, my eyelids slide shut. Shouting voices are now nearing my alley and I have to stay awake, but there's no choice.
I slip into a terrifying sleep.
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A/N: So here's the shirt first chapter! I know I'm no Marie Lu, but I was actually satisfied with this. I was looking through fan-fictions of Legend (my favorite trilogy) and saw that there were none about Day and how he could have possibly survived in the slums alone at ten. And since Marie Lu only offered bits about it, I had my own ideas so I chose to make a fan-fiction about the mystery. I hope you like it and if you don't, give me some feedback :). I appreciate your support and advice.