The Weeping One (MXW)

Orphans

***Aubrey's POV***

Now that I am putting on weight and actually thriving thru our pregnancy, I am back to work. Persephone was ecstatic. She said I had perfect timing.

Today, all of us Royal Warriors are headed to a small village in Haiti. Persephone and Makil briefed us on the carnage that was devastating the small country.

A trafficking ring had targeted the orphanage. Children had gone missing and someone from the inside was at the bottom of it. This was our job. We were to find the offenders and rescue the children.

As we made our way thru the sweltering streets of the poverty stricken nation, beads of sweat matted my fine hairs at the nape of my neck. I am on the final weeks of my pregnancy and this  was causing my heat flashes to strengthen.

"Are you okay parvulus?" Darius asks.

"I'm okay. It's just warm." I whimper.

Darius pulls out a cool water bottle and unscrews the cap before handing it to me. Ethan follows by handing one to Abi.

When we enter the orphanage, I immediately walk back out. I turn to the side of the mud building and puke my guts up.

The smell of bodily fluids is overwhelming. Gnats swarm and flies cover the surface.

I regain my composure and hold a dry cloth over my nose. I have to get thru this.

We slowly make our way down the dirt paths that act as flooring in the run down orphanage. There is no air circulation. There is no running water. The place is packed with children of every age. The smell of old blood permeates the thick air.

I see helpers and coordinators throughout the establishment. There are nurses attending to sick babies and medics patching up wounds. Non-sterile tents are set up to assist with the more debilitating illnesses.

My heart weeps and tears track my dry, sand stung cheeks. I couldn't look a foot in front of me without witnessing sorrow.

These poor babies.

We walked into a meeting hall which consisted of fold out tables and chairs in a mud hut. Darius motions for us ladies to sit. I refuse the offer with a small smile and a shake of my head.

The lady before us explains the circumstances. 3000 kids pass thru these clay walls each year. Some leave on their own. Some succumb to illness. Most stay until they are able to leave. Some simply vanish.

There is not a record keeping procedure in place. Most children are given names upon arrival. The ages are guessed unless the child is born into the orphanage.

Some suffer from birth defects. Others are orphans because their parents have fallen prey to disease. Some are abandoned. Most are malnourished.

I'm literally sick. My stomach lurches and my mouth pools with warm bile. My skin is aching. My head is pounding and I am fighting the urge to flee.

I chant to myself.

You must help them. You can do this. You were born for this.

I listen to the details. I store away the important information. I begin to formulate my plans while the administration staff continue to clue us in.

As I stand there, taking in information, Amare starts stirring restlessly. She is scratching and pacing at my mind.

"What's wrong?" I ask Amare.

"Nothing's right." Amare whines.

"We will fix this." I promise.

Amare continues her assault on the walls of our link. My spirit stirs. My back stiffens. I feel pangs of pain rake thru my bones. I let out a small yelp of pain.