No life for the living (working title)

A working progress based on the life of a child kidnapped at birth and raised in captivity, with no memory or knowledge of the outside world, other than that of what is heard. Told in a narrative

I always knew I'd die a tragic death. From a young age it was apparent to me that the term living had two meanings, yet neither held much merit in my eyes. You would be forgiven for thinking I was a solitary creature, the introverted melancholy sort with a morbid compulsion, however this wasn't the case. I yearned for the pleasures that this world had to offer, to feel the sparks of excitement so many people exude when achieving even the most simplistic milestones, or the way another human being is capable of making you feel as though you are the only person on this earth. How is that so? No, these treasures are ones that I was unfortunate to not feel the luxury of. Fate, as it were had an entirely different set of plans for me, one that was to be enjoyed by others, but to be endured by me. Right until I died.

The scene was picturesque, imagine this, a crisp December morning, a cedar wood log cabin set against the backdrop of a winter woodland, not a single colour in the spectrum was to be seen except miles of white snow. All of the trees looked as if they were made out of glass and the dried leaves would crunch under your feet as you stepped upon them. The inside of this log cabin exhibited a roaring open fire and was filled with all the comforts one would expect such an excursion would require and more. No, this isn't a printed image on a postcard of the Swiss alps, this, was the place of my birth. Born to a Mother and Father that loved me, they had met several years ago in the elevator of the bank they both worked for. My Dad was one of these ruthless high flying corporate top floor sorts and my mother, she was the sweetest most caring ground floor cashier you could ever have had the pleasure of meeting. From the instant they both stood in that lift by chance, alone, just for a second as their fingertips gently touched, they both felt the vibrations of each others auras magnetising towards one another, intertwining until they connected. They called me their miracle child, after years of failing to conceive and finally accepting that the joys of parenthood weren't to be bestowed onto them, I came along and gave them what they had been craving for so long, the chance to be parents.

Of course they had never intended to introduce me into the world in that place, or even on that day, but I had decided to make my entrance early, by about a month, whilst my mother and father lay tired upon the super king, my mother felt the fur bed spread dampening as her waters broke. My father remained surprisingly calm and could've given any midwife a run for their money as he encouraged and supported my mother and delivered me safely into her loving arms. My parents felt the rush of adrenaline, excitement and the fear as they rushed towards their car and on to the hospital. My dad ignoring every stop sign and speed limit, whilst my mother cradled me like I was her most precious possession. Little did anyone of us know in this newly formed family that this was to be the first and last time I ever felt the loving embrace of my mother, her cold cheeks pressing against mine or the soft lullaby of her sweet voice.

My father burst into the hospital foyer like a crazed lunatic, the other patients and hospital staff could be forgiven for thinking someone was nearing the end of their life instead of beginning it. A young nurse ran over to us and clutched my mother away from my Dad and rushed us over to the maternity ward where my Mother and I were to be cared for. The nurse gently eased my tiring mother into an elevator, she must have lost a lot of blood. She felt her legs weakening and beginning to buckle, a hot flush washed over her and her vision become blurry and dark. My mother was passing out. As she fell forward, another passenger in the lift, a gentlemen, quickly caught me before I was crushed under the weight of my falling mother. As the elevator door opened, the young nurse in her inexperienced panic darted down the corridor to signal other hospital staff to come to my mothers aid to ensure her safety. This young nurses mistake, failing to consider the safety of her other patient, me. A regret I suspect she carries with her to this day and forevermore. Putting her trust in a lonesome man posing as a kind stranger. However this man was not kind nor was he to be a stranger to me for much longer. With all the commotion and fuss being acted out in the hospital corridor surrounding my mother, this opportunistic snake veered left, straight into a side door, calmly walking down two flights of concrete stairs, concealing me under his khaki trench coat, brushing past oblivious strangers and pushing open the fire exit doors to freedom.

In the dark car park I was to be handed over to an elder lady, a stern, sharp looking women dressed smartly all in black, her hair pulled tightly back and an ice cold expression where I assumed no compassion lay. Grasping me like she had just been handed a stray, feral cat we sat in the back of a van whilst the man hastily took the wheel and began the long journey to what was to be my new home.

We drove for the entire night, only stopping for fuel, the stench of stale cigarettes and thick pale blue smoke filled the confines of the vehicle chocking me as I inhaled the fumes into my newly born lungs. The unknown man and women outwardly rejoicing in what they had achieved, the noise of her cackling and his grunting, although deafening, never prevented me from falling into a peaceful slumber whilst I focused on the stars shining from the night sky hypnotising me asleep. I'm unclear how long I slept for, but I do remember waking up with a hunger so strong all I could do was cry out in pain. The brightness of the sunlight glazing through the window was blinding and the heat was too intense for me to bare, but none of this was to prepare me for what was to come, how I wish now that hunger and discomfort was the worse of my worries. It was several hours more before I got fed, my first meal on this earth consisting of cold drizzles of milk pouring out of a carton being suspended over me by the women in black in the back of the van. Each time she poured the carton over my mouth the milk would wash over my face like a fountain, running all over me, into my eyes and nose and streaming down my neck and cheeks. This didn't matter to me (or them), as all I was focusing on was clenching my thirst and drinking as much as I could. My tiny mouth received nowhere near as much milk as I needed but my hunger was staved for now.

Eventually the car stopped, this wasn't another stop to fill the car with fuel, it appeared we had arrived at our destination. My female captor breathed a sigh of relief as she could finally leave this torrid vehicle and the man, with beads of sweat dripping down his face and a soaked checkered shirt was also happy to be here. He opened the van doors and scooped me up from the rear seats where I had lay. There was no love in this embrace and he soon parcelled me off to another man, trading me for a thick brown envelope this new stranger took out of his inside jacket pocket. They whispered and muttered words to one another about payments and future transactions although I never saw the checkered shirt man in the Khaki jacket ever again after he walked away and drove off.

It was here, in a cold damp house in the middle of nowhere I was to spend my foreseeable days. This new man held me up and pulled me closer towards his face so that he may take a closer look at the new one, in his words. His eyes glaring at me, almost confused, as if he was trying to figure something out about me. He proceeded to scream for someone named Gina, until a very young lady, who rushed from a door in the hallway we were stood in appeared next to us. He stared at her in disgust, towering over her he instructed her to put me with the others before shoving me into her arms. I was again carried back through the door she appeared from and down a set of creaky wooden stairs. The sounds of mumbles and cries drew louder and closer with each step she took. A single unshaded light rose swinging from the low ceiling was the only source of illumination in this otherwise dark, windowless and dirty basement. A familiar stench of cigarettes filled the air mixed with the reek of unsanitary conditions and curdled milk. For the second time in my life i was fed. A conglomeration of what I can only describe as puréed leftovers being forced down my throat by another uncaring emotionless women, Gina. Growing up she was to play nanny to me and the others down here, although I never got to know most of the new arrivals as they'd often be leaving not long after arriving, and Gina, she was no care giver, she instilled fright and fear to all that came down here. There was only one other resident of this basement that has been here for as long as I could remember. A little boy named Tommy. He and I grew to become close, developing a shared bond as we grew older. Both witnessing her horrendous acts and enduring her unfathomable skills of violence and abuse develop. Her sordid mind knew no boundaries below the ground as she was free to explore the depths of her evil wills. Tommy and I although not here by choice were made to feel as if we were a burden to Gina, who reminded us all too often that we were only down there as no one on the outside wanted us or cared about us. We quickly learned to be grateful, as any form of non gratitude would result in punishment. Tommy and I were often starved, for days on end and had to result in drinking water from the toilet basin, as the only sink was upstairs where we weren't allowed. I always wondered where all the other children came from, and where they went. I also wondered why Tommy and me never left. Why were we down here for so long? Did our parents not want us? Was my mother out there, looking for me? As each day passes I began to remember my mother and father less. Those blissful memories of comfort and safety being replaced with thoughts of loneliness and hopelessness. The months soon turned into years, until all that remained of Tommy and me were the empty shells of our existence and a strong hunger for the outside.

When we were really lucky, from time to time a child old enough to talk came to stay, and although they were terrified and scared, me and Tommy would just sit there, listening to them wailing, closing our eyes and picturing all these magnificent things they were describing. We both wondered what the taste of chocolate was like, or what it must have been like to go to a place called school, a place where all the other children go to be together and have fun. That's what Jimmy told us when he came to stay, he was in his second year there. He explained to us that he goes all day and everyday, apart from weekends, which he said is a time you spend with your family. Tommy and I both looked at each other, we could see the glare of awe and fascination in the other's eyes. Jimmy was another that didn't stay for very long, soon to be replaced by Lilly, she was oldest one yet. She arrived in a right old state. Kicking and screaming, dirt covering her face, there was so much dirt you could hardly see all the tones of colour in her hair. This was the first time we had ever seen someone with hair as beautiful as this. Auburn Tommy and I later learned it was called. She had to be carried down the stairs by the gentlemen i first met when arriving. He's the man all of us first meet when we arrive. We know him only as sir, and he rarely ever sets a foot down here. Me and Tommy knew what was coming, as Lilly managed to squirm herself out of Sirs lock and began to scurry up the stairs like a terrified mouse being preyed upon by a cat, Sir firmly grabbed Lilly by her ankle, we could tell by her squealing how much it hurt, we could hear the sounds of her finger nails clawing and scrapping at the wooden steps whilst trying to wriggle her foot loose and kicking him with her other foot, sir had no patience for this, and quickly tired of this sort of nonsense. He simply tightened his grip, and with his free arm scrunched the top of her dirty ripped dungarees and launched her back down the remaining stairs. Her tiny black buckle shoes flew off her feet and the sound of her hands and face slapping the concrete floor as she landed reverberated through the dark damp basement. Tommy and I heard it well and saw it all from inside out fort, an old disused cabinet that had been there longer than Tommy or I could remember. We pushed it against the wall under the stairs in the corner, and would hide in it, using the mirror opposite to see who was walking down the stairs. In this instance we could see poor Lilly, lying face down, silently on the floor. Gina came strutting through from the back section of the basement as she did, strutting around, wondering what all the noise and fuss was about, until she looked up and saw Sir glaring at her. He had a very distinct stare, he wouldn't look particularly angry and he needn't say a word, but you knew that he was livid. He told Gina about Lilly's disobedience and instructed her to sort it out before he sorted Gina out. The look on Ginas face reminded me of the looks of all the children that had come down those stairs. turning around calmly and slowly walking back upstairs Sir stopped at the top, turned his head and smiled before closing the door behind him.

The latch on the door had barely clicked before Gina kneeled down beside Lilly, the entire basement filled with silenced. Tommy and I waited, by know Gina would've began distributing her punishment, but Tommy and I couldn't hear anything. All we could see in the reflection in the mirror was Gina kneeling next to a petrified motionless Lilly. After waiting for what felt like an eternity, Lilly started mumbling, lay flat against the concrete she lifted her head to view her surroundings. Gina, who had remained stationary and silent, waited until Lilly's eye line had finally caught up to where She was knelt, slid her hand over the top of Lillys head, her hair stringing out through the gaps between Ginas fingers, like spaghetti as Gina simply grasped it tighter and tighter, stood up and lifted her arm high, suspending Lilly. Me and Tommy have seen her do this before, we're both grateful our hair is kept short, although the process of having rusty old clippers dragged through matted unwashed hair, ripping it out like a farmer does his crop isn't something we look forward to. Gina proceeded to walk back to where she came from, slowly pacing past our fort we could see Lilly's legs dangling and shaking as they went by. You would've thought her screams would be as loud as before, but Lilly made no noise, not a peep. Maybe she had learned by now what crying gets you here... something to cry about...............

Author's Note

Ignore grammar, first story Ive ever written, feedback very much appreciate, please don't hate, critique as much as you like,