The next morning was dismal, even after the thankful news the other day. Barbara decided early in the morning that another day at school wasn't worth her effort, so therefore came to the conclusion that an extra day at home couldn't hurt. After all, it had been recommended by her closest friend. The two dark arms of the clock pointed south, just about lining up symmetrically beside the six.
A light covering of rain decorated the window panes, loosing their grip and racing down the surface. Barbara's eyes tracked them as they fell, making a mental note of which one made it down the fastest.
The drops resembled tears quite well, and that's pretty much what they were- emotions from the sky.
The bed creaked as Barb re-claimed her position, burying her legs in the yellowish-cream of the duvet while exhaling a breath. Perhaps that is what she had needed, an initial shock and an easy solution. The idea liked to linger.
Commotion travelled up the stairs in sound waves as clashes from the cutlery draw hammered. The girl's parents weren't normally downstairs at such an absurd time, and it made Barbara wonder. What could they possibly be doing?
A mere few hours passed, and the commotion finally grew quiet. Barbara lay slumped in her bed, one leg crossing over the other. She had been following the ridges along her ceiling like a never-ending railway, her eyes being the train which transported not people, but thoughts. It seemed easier to rope things together when she was literally doing just that with the grooves in the piping. The creamy white of the roof reminded Barbara of frosting, like the kind you see layered ever so thickly on cakes, the kind you use for special occasions, something worth the celebration.
Holland hadn't had cake in ages, didn't allow herself to. Perhaps that was the next challenge in recovery- treating herself for once. On the topic of celebrations, September thirteenth was inching its way closer, day by day. Another year of life was coming to a close, and up came her birthday. Two weeks didn't seem like a lot to get through normally, but this year it still seemed like months away.
Barbara sat up, propping herself up on the bed. The air was stuffy, and it wasn't the most pleasant to breathe in. Opening a window was an option, but a walk down the street seemed more practical. It could give her more time to ponder the government also.
After gathering together a suitable outfit and putting it on, Barbara headed downstairs, reaching out for the door handle to set herself free. The air outside was humid, but a lot better than in her room. It was good to get some fresh air after a stuffy night of tossing and turning. With no destination in mind, Barbara Holland started walking.
Trees swayed slightly in the rare breeze, casting shadows on the worn asphalt paving which laid crumbled beneath her feet. She had no idea what time it was, but from the vague memories of her timetable, she assumed that her class mates would be sitting though a lesson of drama in that moment.
Getting bored of the plain concrete, Barbara veered slightly off track and headed into the dense woods which surrounded the town.
The airflow was colder underneath the canopy of the nature, sending a shiver down her spine- more so caused by the eeriness of the area, not the temperature.
The girl continued walking, pausing to check behind her every time she heard a crack of a twig. Most of the time it was her own noise, but the one time she didn't check, it wasn't.
A rustle in the fallen leaves caught her attention, and Barbara turned, expecting a bird, or some other small animal, but locked eyes with something else completely. She locked eyes with a child.
The young girl stood, just as startled as the other. Barbara took in her features immediately, and realisation struck her almost instantly. Lost in the woods, grubby hospital gown, buzzed haircut- this was one of Martin Brenner's test subjects.
After reading all of the newspapers on the escapees and their stories, albeit vague, Barb knew the right approach.
Standing exactly where she was, Holland took a breath.
"Hey" her voice was calm, welcoming. "Are you lost?"
The young girl stood, petrified. Barbara took another approach.
"I'm Barbara, but friends call me Barb. What's your name?"
No reply came, and the older girl sighed. The only option seemed necessary.
"You know, if you don't speak, I'll have to take you to Hopper, the chief. He'll help you, I'm sure of it. Call someone, get you home."
She immediately bit her tongue, cursing her words. Knowing the girls past, even if not personally, it was an awful thing to say.
The girl didn't have a home.
Barb reached into her pocket ready to dial Hopper, praying for him not to ring child services or even Brenner himself.
The girl's life flashed in-front of her eyes, and she reached out her hand quickly. "Sydney."
Barbara blinked. "Sydney?"
The girl nodded and pointed carefully to her chest. "Sydney."
The older nodded, understanding. Upon watching Sydney rest down her arm, black ink caught Holland's attention.
"002" Barb nodded, muttering under her breath.
Sydney nodded, hiding away her arm. "Me."
"I thought your name was Sydney?"
The young girl looked dumbfounded, unsure how to answer. "Made up. Two is bad name."
Words struggled out, almost like it was the first thing she had said in years. Barbara assumed that it was.
"Okay then, now that we're speaking, would you like to tell me what's going on?"
A blink played out slowly, followed by a gulp. "Not safe."
"Who?" Panic rose, knowing that she should've reported the situation already. Perhaps there was a reason for that advice.
"Me... and you."
The test subject walked forward, jabbing her hand roughly into Barbara's chest, possibly signifying dangerous outcomes. It was Holland's time to gulp. What now?
"Bad men want me." Sydney forced out, terror plastered on her face. "And now they want... you. Family escape, family get killed."
Another sound played out deeper in the forest, and she prayed that another child wasn't going to reveal themselves out of the blue.
After turning to assess the disturbance, Barbara turned back only to see an empty space. Sydney had fled, and now Barbara must too.
YOU ARE READING
Tʜᴇ Fᴏʀɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ- Bᴀʀʙᴀʀᴀ Hᴏʟʟᴀɴᴅ
FanfictionA child at the age of fifteen shouldn't be worrying herself over such things, knowing that they could do no harm, but Barbara Holland enjoyed it. She loved the unknown, just as much as she feared it, and it was almost routine at this point in her li...
