Captor's Forest

Chapter I: Life at its Worst

1. This is my first story on Wattpad, so don't be too harsh now. ;D

2. The story is not fully finished, more is yet to come. As of now, only part 1 has been released.

3. Please not that Part 1 is just a lead-up to the actual story.

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I force down the last of my breakfast; a blend of passed-its-used-by-date milk and stale cereal. The usual, providing about as much satisfaction as jumping out of a plane with no parachute. You might be wondering why I am eating this unsatisfactory mixture described as "food". Well, I have no parents, no money, and I live in an excuse of a house.

My parents were bogans. They had a shaky and abusive relationship, although they lived in the same house, they weren't married (they couldn't afford it) nor very close, I could always hear them arguing in bed at night. When dad learned that my mum was pregnant the little bugger left. I'm not sure all the exact details because I've only heard them from mum, as I said, I wasn't born at the time.

I've spent my entire childhood with little privilege. Mum can only just afford to make a living for us. That was until recently, now I have nothing. A month ago mum started to get sick, I don't know what has happened to her, but she has a massive fever, it takes effort for her to speak, her temperature is through the roof and she is helpless. I can't seek medical help because we are living illegaly in our house.

I have had to ration the remaining food in the fridge, it has to feed mum and I for as long as possible. Until it's gone completely bad it can still be used. I'm going to have to start scavenging soon.

Anyway, here I am, a pessimistic, malnourished 14 year-old boy named somewhere along the lines of Jack.

When I finish my breakfast I rinse my bowl and put it in the sink. I then prepare some breakfast for her. Her eyes are stone grey and her hair that probably hasn't been combed in months is nut brown and shoulder length. she is too weak to feed herself. I gently poke the spoon into her mouth. She closes her mouth around it and swallows weakly, a look of disgust on her face upon tasting the food.

And with that I grab my school bag and begin to walk towards my school. Well, I guess I do have education...

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Math class.

I can't concentrate, I don't care about my maths class, I don't care about school right now. I can't stop thinking about mum, she's getting weaker by the day. If she doesn't improve soon, I think she might die; then what will I do? I don't know.

'...Then what would the value f of x be Jack?'

Mrs. Betts is staring at me, her narrow eyes peering down at me from her rectangular-lensed glasses. I think she knows I'm not paying attention. She has short, messy blonde hair, alike to the length of most male's, except it seems to stick up rather than grow down the back of her neck. She has narrow, bluey, grey eyes and a thin, wide mouth. She is in her late 50s and her face is fairly aged. Has quite the temper. I'm probably one of her least favourite students. She always picks on me.

'Uhhm, ahh... um... I dunno...'

'Come on Jack, it's not that hard!'

I look at her in silence for a while.

The whole class has their attention focused on me now. I see Caz roll his eyes discreetly. Not discreet enough for me not to notice though.

'Ahhhh..'

'I'm sorry, I really don't know.'

'Were you even paying attention to anything I just said?'

'Ahhm, no...'