MIRR/OR/ED

|Chapter 2|

Each year has passed in a rush as we have skipped from warehouse to warehouse, trying to fend for survival. It's hard to realize just how crushing reality is when all you do is struggle to find the next safe haven.

It feels as if I've done a full line of cocaine from the insurmountable amount of anxiety at the mere thought of it, not that I've ever tried cocaine...

Another sharp inhale.

There will never be a real moment to breathe.

My body shakes as I try to catch my breath..

And as I do I begin to hear a rhythm of footsteps coming from the rounded alleyway I sit at the mouth of, each one of them pounding into my skull. I unconsciously hold my breath as I try my best to hold back my sobs, hoping I don't have to face the humiliation of a troop seeing me this way.

"Thia, hey..." Large hands land on my shoulders, pulling me to them. I already know by the hard hit to the chest that it's Tom. His grip makes me strong and weak all at once and I let go of the need to hold it all in.

The flood gates break open, setting free the buried grief in small sobs. Pressing my face into his chest I take in deep inhales of his familiar scent as memories of my childhood flash into my mind's eye, the tears soak his shirt and coat my cheeks.

"Shhh, I know." He soothes, petting my head affectionately; as he's done my whole life...well most of it.

"Hey, hey." He pulls me from his chest, hands held tight to my shoulders. The look in his eyes is so reminiscent, I'm brought back to the day he looked at me the same. I couldn't be much more than ten years old when he found me and my sister hiding in our house. His furrowed brow was less wrinkled back then but it still holds the same concerned gaze of the fateful day our mother went missing.

"There has to be some good in this, there might be some hints to finding your mother. This is a step towards knowing more..."

His strong gaze is comforting, yet my chest sinks a little at the unknown. I nod slowly, not certain on how to respond.

"I've got some of the guards questioning him as we speak. He's got to have some answers," His block-like hands loosen on my shoulders and then squeeze again in reassurance. "There is light at the end of the tunnel." The distinct wrinkle to his crows feet creates a map of ingrained edges around the deep green eyes that stare back at me as the camp's common slogan slips his lips with familiarity, petting my head once more.

I take a deep inhale of the warm summer air, breathing it all out I give him a placating smile.

"Let's get back to camp—we've only got about two hours until trucks are a go." His words come out with a huff as he pulls himself up, struggling to gain footing with his weak knee but yet he still offers a hand to me.

I take it and he hoists me up to my feet, slinging his heavy arm around my shoulder as we wind our way back down the alley we came from.

Darkened brick and crumpled cement buildings line our pathway.

My mind wanders. Asking questions I know I don't have the answers to.

"So, Thia," Tom drops his arm, and I stumble to my side from the shift in weight.

"There are a few things I feel I need to tell you..." His heavy words deafen the air, and I feel my heart build up the walls I subconsciously put up when he has this familiar tone. Turning to look over at him I raise a brow. "About the history of our camps," He states. Anxiety lessens and then picks itself up once more at the anticipation of what it could be. The small explanations I get of the 'why' our world is the way it is, is refreshing yet in most cases it's crushing to realize just how twisted our reality is..