Thirty-Two

He has this memory hidden in the back of his head, he is not sure what it really is but a feeling tells him he already does. He hears a faint voice whispering words into his ear, in an order that they might be a song, maybe a lullaby sung by an angelic voice he guesses to be his mother's. If the feeling is right, that memory would be the only thing he has from the woman that gave him birth. He doesn't have anything from them, his parents, not a picture, not a memory, nothing. He used to have the name they gave him as the only treasure they had left, but somehow his life managed to take everything away. Even his name.

He can still remember his name, he pretends as if he doesn't, for the sake of his life, but he does. He remembers it. No one has ever called him in that specific order of alphabets, he has never heard it spoken out loud, maybe he has, of course he has, of course his parents have called him by that name, he just doesn't remember it.

All he is now is a number. All they ever call him now is a number, and that makes him feel like he is not a person anymore, like he has lost the chance of ever being one. He is nothing but a number that has done a lot of things against his own will, things they ask him to do, and he has no choice but to obey. And now aside from a number, he is something else, he is lost.

He is Thirty-Two. They call him Thirty-Two. And she tried to get to know him, but how can you get to know a person that doesn't even know who he is himself?