A Mother

Welcome to Motherhood

The train took off down the road. I guess you could say it was more like a bus in the shape of a train because a train couldn't travel on the tar road.

There were seven of them, plus the one with earphones on driving the thing. For some reason that I couldn't fathom, the driver was not allowed to hear or see anybody behind him.

I sat in the back and guy across from me gave me a look I knew all too well. Without any hesitation, we attacked the guys and managed to take them all out. Walking up the bus-train as we went, I asked everyone I passed by if they knew how to drive a train or a bus. Of course, no one spoke up. That's what Salikalaw is made of: complaining fools who don't do anything to change their lives. Have they not heard the stories of the camp were headed to?

Three of the guys woke up and started to make their threats at the passengers, and with no one to drive the train to a safer place, if there was any, me and martial arts ahead of me stayed quiet. I wasn't even that concerned about the others, it was my three siblings that I was worried about.

My sister Melissa and I knew of the stories, but it's impossible to get away from this island, so remote and out of the way. I guess that's why these people made base here, no one quite cared what happened to the islanders that seemingly never existed. If anyone would have the toughest time, it would be Melissa. She was ill on a regular basis, but at the same time, she had to label everyone into their respected jobs once we reached the camp because she was the one with the most amount of connections.

I was tagged mother, and gave her a look that said, 'I hope you know what you're doing.' She gave a small smile and a nod, and without any resistance, I left with the guards.

I stood in line with two people ahead of me when I heard a name call out. My name. I looked at the guard who stood on the side of me. He nodded and I walked towards the voice.

In the main office, which was separated from the other cubbies, a fat lady sat behind an oak desk with a scared scrawny kid standing in front of her.

"So, you're the famous Gina, are you?"

Famous? Since when have I ever been famous?

"You will be a prize I'm sure of that," she took out a circular looking pill from a pill box and threw it in her mouth. "Make Gramma proud, kay?"

"You ain't my gramma ya hag," I snapped.

"Feisty too. I like that," her grin made the kid I was standing beside upset. His little hand clutched onto the long shirt that I was wearing, gripping it for dear life. I took a good look at the kid, and saw whip marks all over his body, bruises marking his face. I immediately bent to his level and cupped his face. The blood in my hand warmed and I could feel his cold skin turning slightly pink as his wounds healed. "Goddess above, kid, are you all right?" The kid simply stared, his eyes showing me his tortured and melancholy soul.

"Goddess be, you're a healer," the old hag said as her mouth draped open, her hands twirling with the pen in her hand. "I've heard of the tales, but I never thought it was real."

"What does it matter? What the hell did you guys do to this kid?" I demanded.

"That kid tried to run away from the camp. A beating is the least horrific punishment we could give." She stood up from her chair and walked over to me, putting her hand under my chin while her fingers put pressure on my cheeks. "He's not as innocent and defenseless as you make him sound. Just like you have abilities, so do some of the kids here," she threw my head to the side as she let go, walking over to the bookshelf to collect what looked like an agenda. "It's your job as mother to care for these children and to help them live as long as possible." She sat down and opened the book as she began to write notes. "Keep the kids happy and healthy and you live. The older the kid gets, the more rewards the mother will receive, and the less harsh we have to be on the children. You see, we found that when the children have an adult to look after them, they were less defiant towards the guards and the jobs that we give them. Not to mention they have a longer life expectancy," she said in a flat tone.

"What are these kids to you?" I asked in complete horror.

She looked up at me with a cruel and evil grin. "They are nothing more than fuel."

"Fuel for what exactly?" I asked, anger now filling every bone in my body.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she said in a deep, dark voice. She looked behind me as she yelled for the guards. The door opened. "Take her to her new home."