My mind wakes up before my body does. I can't open my eyes still; though I can hear things around me. Coughing, murmuring, hushed whispers. Deep yet quiet voices above my head. I hear the sound of something slamming against the metal, then feel shaking beneath my body. Someone's in the lift with me. My heart hammers madly against my chest, and I know if I had consciousness I would be trembling with anxiety.
Warm fingers brush against my icy cold ones, and the note in my hand is gone. I attempt to fight past the unconsciousness taking over my mind, but it's as if a dark, cloudy layer of sleep is trying to block the world around me.
"She's the last one... ever," a boy murmurs. His accent is soft and English. Tense silence fills the air around me, before the same boy breaks it. "Well what the shuck does that mean?"
My eyes abruptly open before I even command them to do so, and my vision is filled with a blinding white light and blurred shapes. Audible gasps escape from around me. I open my mouth for air, but instead, a single word comes out. No, not a word - a name.
"Thomas!"
My throat just as heavy and parched as before, I gasp for breath. Hazy shapes move around me, the shapes of bodies and an open door above my head. Someone crouches beside me in the lift, jumping ever so slightly at my sudden outburst. My vision comes into focus, and I see a vast group of men standing over me. No... not men... boys.
Teenage boys, some small and skinny, others looming over the others with bulging muscles. But, one thing's for sure, everyone looks terrified. My hand flies to my mouth, as if I'm trying to touch the last word that I spoke. Thomas. I utter it quietly again, unsure as to why I said it. It felt like someone else forced the word out of my mouth, as if I was controlled.
My eyes go blurry again as the unwanted sense of sleep overtakes my mind without my consent. I try to fight it, but it's too strong – it overpowers my will. My head hits the floor again, with even more force than before, eyes rolling to the back of my head. Just before I lose all vision, I see the face of the boy crouched beside me. Wide brown eyes and a head of sandy blonde hair. He grasps the crumpled note in his shaking hand.
Those eyes. Those brown eyes. Where have I seen them before?
A few seconds pass before a different boy, with a deeper voice says in a serious tone, "do you still think I'm overreacting?" Another awkward silence settles over the group. The next minute is filled with confused whispers, the boys' voices laced with fear and a sense of urgency. From what I gather, they're just as clueless as I am.
"Med-jacks!" someone shouts. The sounds are muffled to me, but I can still make them out. The metal makes the same clanging noise as before when people hop into the lift, and I feel some hands gripping my arms, legs and waist. I try to open my mouth, to scream, but it doesn't work. I feel my head rolling back in the air as my body is lifted upwards and hoisted out of the lift. I feel a cool wind turn my fingers numb. My throat burns as I feel the urge to cry but can't. My body is being lifted roughly, swaying from side to side without care.
"Be more bloody careful with her!" the boy with the English voice calls out, sighing. I try once more to open my eyes, with all the force I have, yet nothing works. The boys carrying me begin talking in sombre voices.
"The 'last one'. What the klunk is that supposed to mean?" one boy with a high voice asks.
Klunk?
"I dunno, but it can't be good. And... a girl..." another mutters worriedly.
"Well, I call dibs," one boy snickers. If I could, I would roll my eyes. Instead, I feel a vast wave of fear and paranoia creep throughout my body, wondering if I'll be safe - wondering what these group of boys could possibly do to me - while I'm unconscious. I try to quash those dark thoughts, to no avail.
"Shut it, Zart," the second boy replies sharply.
"I'm just joking, you don't need to be so uptight. But I'm betting she knows something about this shucking place that we don't... why else would she be here? With a note? None of us ever got a note."
I hear a door creak open, and feel my body placed on a mattress. A spring painfully digs into my back as I lie there on the hard bed and I hear the boys tentatively shuffle away. A million thoughts are buzzing around my mind like insistent insects, swarming my brain. Who is Thomas? Who am I? Where am I? And that note... what does it mean?
I don't know how much time passes before my mind becomes weary and I feel my mind falling into a deep sleep. It feels like it's been weeks since I came up in that lift, however I know it must have only been a matter of hours, maybe only one. I'm too exhausted to think any more about anything... which, I suppose, is everything...
Before I completely fall asleep, one more name flickers through my mind, disappearing as fast as it came. But it's not Thomas...
(y/n).
My name is (y/n).