[Jacob]

*Setting: Ethan awoke from his irritable slumber. His covers had been pushed to the bottom of his bed and his bottom half was dangling off of the bedside. His red Pjama trousers were twisted and uncomfortable, he stood up and adjusted them. Stretching, he wandered towards the door, yawning. His hair was still long and upon remembering the scan, he realised he needed his hair cut short to make it look somewhat normal again. He opened the door and stepped into the dining room, looking at the clock which was situated on the wall, and was one of those ones that told the time, date and day. He had been asleep for four days. Four days and not disturbed once for his hobby. He smiled to himself and seemed to emit a glow. The appartment seemed empty and so he wandered into the kitchen, stepping up to the woodgrain bottom cupboard he opened it and searched for some cereal. Grabbing the first box he could find he set it on the counter and looked for some clean bowls and a bottle of milk. As he tipped the contents of the cereal packet into the bowl he heard the door open and close, setting the packet down he darted into the dining room and towards the doorway. It was his mother...*

Ethan: "Mum!!"

He ran towards her with a smile seemingly stuck onto his face. She turned to him and smiled faintly back at him, crouching down and opening her arms.

Mother: "How are you? You ok?"

Ethan nodded and rested his shoulder on his mothers, breathing deeply and relaxing.

Ethan: "Where's dad!?! When will he be back??"

His mother grasped hold of his shoulders and pushed him back abit so she could look him in the eye. She looked gaunt. Ethan knew it was bad news and his eyes slowly glazed over. His lower lip trembled.

Ethan: "W-Who did it...When...?? Why!?!"

He feared the worst and wanted to know every little detail about his fathers death. He hoped he died in battle, like he always wanted. She shook her head slowly, her long hair flowing over her shoulders. She then let go of his left shoulder and slapped him, the left side of Ethans face immediatly turned red and he staggered backwards, grasping it.

Ethan: "W...What?? M...Mum!!"

He began to cry and as he stepped backwards, his mother stood. Her stare cold and hard. Evil and full of disappointment.

Mother: "I thought you were more sensible then that!?! WHY!?! WHY ETHAN!!"

Ethan shook his head in confusion. He didn't know what she was going on about, didn't know why she was so close to crying or so upset. As he tried to think through the stinging pain of her hand mark the door opened and his father stepped in. His face too was full of anger. He was followed by 4 troops, each holding a Rifle. They stepped in and awaited for their orders. The father nodded towards Ethans room and then stood back, allowing them to pass. Following them was another Orkhid, he looked like a Scientist but it was clear he wasn't. He carried a metal container and set it down on the floor outside Ethans room. He then turned to Ethan and shook his head gently, sighing. He then addressed the boy...

Orkhid: "Ethan, do you know whom we are...?"

Ethan stepped back, knocking into the dining table. He shook his head and tried to subside the sobs. He kept glancing over towards his room, wondering what the troops would bring out. He could hear crashing and heavy objects being thrown around, their mutterings filling in the silence that was inbetween the crashing.

Orkhid: "I'm Alenzandor Hill. I'm the Head of the Memories Department. I'm sure you know why we're here...right?"

His voice was softer now and he brushed his gingery-black fringe out of his face. His piercing gray eyes seemed to violate Ethans pressence. He awaited an answer and shifted impatiently as he did so.

Ethan: "Y-Yes...I think so."

He nodded and rubbed his eyes, he was still aching from his slap but the pain was slowly disappearing. The troops exited his room, carrying his candles and other majic-orientated items. They then threw them into the container scruffily. Ethan was in it deep. He tried to rack his brain, trying to think of an excuse. He thought of saying that he was looking after them, but then he remembered that they had delved into his mind...it was him who was using them. No-one else. The troops looked at the child in disgust, all of the Orkhids looked at him in disgust, in one way or another. The white-clothed Orkhid held out his hand, seemingly offering help to him. The child was nervous but knew that if he stayed behind something bad would happen to him. He stepped forwards, raising his right hand to meet the Orkhids.

Father: "Wait. Can we have a minute or five alone with Ethan, please."

He stepped forwards, growling at his offspring. Ethan's eyes glanced up at the Orkhid and pleaded with him to decline.

Orkhid: "Sure, we'll be outside..."

He signalled to the troops to follow, one picked up the box and then they all left, in single file.

Mother: "Your a disappointment to us, never in our families generations has this happened...YOU are the first to shame our bloodlines!!"

His father slowly took off his belt and wrapped the leather strap around his hand. Allowing the metal buckle to hang. Fiercly he gripped the belt, his muscles flexing.

Father: "Hold him down...He needs to learn the Cale way..."

His fathers voice shocked Ethan, it was cold and brutal. He showed no emotion in his face. And as his mother sweeped across the floor and grasped his hair, turned him around and tore the red shirt off of his back...he sobbed. The pain was a fraction of what he was going to feel when the Rehabilitators take him...He wouldn't survive, he wouldn't live to see the light of another day, and he knew it...

~End~