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74'S POV

Who was that woman on the front step? Where am I? Why me? Who am I?

My pupils dilate and everything that has been dark in the room comes into view. The blank walls on every side, the words scrawled on the ceiling. But my attention is focused on the girl in the corner. Her wilted eyes are closed, her once crisp white skirt is now stained green and brown, as are my hoodie and my skin. My eyes dart to the girl's hand tracing letters in the dust covered, concrete floor. An A, a K, an.....?? I can't make out the next letter quick enough before girl is staring straight at me.

"What are you looking at?" she questions, trying to look tough, but struggling to stand up.

"Uh--" I start to say as part of her skirt gets caught on a nail in the wall, and rips a few threads of fabric open. The sound of thread ripping triggers hazed memories in my mind, although I can't really see them; I just know they're there. She clenches her teeth in frustration and looks down at the rips. Her frustration turns to shock as she notices something on her leg. A number. To be more exact, two numbers; a 2 and a 9 neatly tattooed onto her pale skin.

"What is this?? Did you do this!?!" She exclaims, now somehow finding the strength to run over to me and shove me up against the wall. Her shaky and cold breaths travel down my neck and my breath does the same to her. A shock runs through my body.

"I-I-I-- no I didn't." I respond, my eyes trailing down to my own leg. "I have one too, see?" I show her my own, trying to calm her down, even though I'm just as confused as she is. My numbers are a 7 and a 4, less neat than the girl's, but still readable. "We're on the same side, okay?" She stares at me for a minute, her hands still pushing me against the wall, her breaths still hitting the threads of my t-shirt.

"Okay." She sighs, her face and breaths calming down a little bit. She leans next to me on the wall and slides to the floor. Our eyes meet again as she looks up to me, hers almost watering. "Do you know who I am?" the question sprouts up with her quivering voice, and tears start streaming down her face.

"I think whoever has us here erased our memories or something, because I dont know my name either." I slide down next to her.

The next minutes are spent in silence.

It feels like it's been hours when the door slams open and another screaming person falls in, his blood making puddles in front of him. I stand up and run over to him, and sure enough, he has a number tatooed on him as well, but it's on his wrist; 55. He is coughing up blood everywhere and the total silence has turned to chaos.

"Oh my god, what happened?" The girl with the 29 on her leg, gets up from the wall and comes over to 55-guy, panicking. I don't know why 29 would ask him a question when he's dying, but I roll with it. When I sit 55 up and lean him against the door, he starts to cough less, and finally, he opens his eyes and looks around. His breaths were louder than mine and 29's.

"Who...are...you...people?who am...I? " He says in-between breaths. I look back at 29, and then turn to 55. "We don't know. We think someone erased all of our memories."

I feel 29 still looking at me.

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