A Part of Me... Lost (prologue)

1

Frightened in shock, there I was, pulled into a bundle of fear, in the corner of the dark prison room. I was terrified of what my captor planned to do with me. I was five years old, and yet I couldn’t seem to grasp at any of the past memories that flooded my mind when I was younger. I don’t remember how I got here, who my parent’s are, or any of those dreadful past events in my life. This terrified me even more than what was happening now. Cradling so many thoughts, I linked my arms around my knees, trying to make sense of it all. The last scrap of a memory I had left was my age and my name. That, and how I had been taken here by a huge man who kept his hood over his face. He had dragged me into the large, dank room, me kicking, leaving no damage. I still remember his hand covering my mouth to muffle my screaming. 2

Before removing his hand he said, “When I take my hand away, you better stay quiet boy. Understand?” His voice was threatening and I knew I should do what he tells me. I nodded in response and he put me down, then he chained my wrists and ankles together. After making sure I couldn’t escape he turned and left the room, locking the door behind him and leaving me in total darkness. For a while I sat there in fear, listening to the rat claws as they scratched the cold stone flooring. 3

My mind began to wander and I tried desperately to remember something that had happened in my short life before this moment. Why couldn’t I remember anything? I tried to picture my mother or my father or think of what they were like. Something. I wanted some memory of something! I could feel the memories there in my mind but they seemed so far out of reach, as if something had locked them up so I wouldn’t be able to remember my own life.4

I don’t know how long I’d been left there alone. Hours, day’s maybe. My stomach growled in hunger and I wished I could have something to eat. My captor soon opened the door and strode in, carrying a long strip of what I guessed to be leather, connected to a piece of wood. I didn’t know what this was but something in me told me to be afraid of it.5

“Stand up,” the man ordered coldly.6

Slowly, I did as I was told. He came over to me and stripped me of my shirt, then turned me around so my back was to him. He raised the whip and a surprised and painful scream escaped from my lips as the whip struck hard across my back. I struggled against my chains but of course it was useless. All I could do was pray to whoever was listening to me that the whipping would end soon, but it seemed to go on for hours and hours. I bit my lip, trying not to cry out, but it hurt so much. Finally the man lowered his whip and looked down into my innocent blue eyes, seeming entertained by my pain and fear.7

I dropped to my knees after he had left and stared down at my blood stained jeans, trying not to concentrate on the pain in my back. My body trembled from the recent beating and I was shivering from the cold. My captor hadn’t given me back my shirt and the room was freezing.8

Less than five minutes later I think, the door was pushed open and I raised my head, dreading to see the hooded figure of the man once again. Sure enough though, my captor stood there in front of me again, still holding the whip. I suppose he had just wanted to give me a short break, but I wished he would just leave me alone! He ordered me up again and I stood, my legs shaking with weakness beneath me, reminding me of just how hungry I was.9

I was forced to turn around again, exposing my now scarred and bloody back. I cried out, unable to bite back the scream as the whip lashed across my back, reopening the fresh cuts. Just then a strange man with black hair burst into the room. My captor let out a gasp of surprise and he grabbed my arm, pulling me over to him. He brought out a knife from his pocket and put it to my neck, threatening to slit my throat. I cowered in the man’s strong arms and looked to the other man pleadingly.10

The strange man took a step forward but the man holding me put more pressure on the knife and a small trickle of blood appeared. The man stepped back fearfully, afraid that it would be his fault if I died. A strong surge of mixed emotions swept through me; fear, anger, hate, and I suddenly felt a build up of energy and strength in me. Quickly, before my captor’s mind could contemplate on what I was doing, I swept my hand back to the man’s side where his sword was strapped in its sheath and slid the deadly blade out. Though I couldn’t even remember ever using a sword I found I had all the skills I needed to use it.11

I bit down into the man’s hand, forcing him to let go of the knife. He yelped in pain and before he could grab me again I spun around out of his grasp and pointed the sword at him. Anger flooded into his eyes and he tried to take the sword away from me, but I stepped away and fiercely thrust the sword into him.12

Suddenly, now that the danger was over, I went back to being the afraid five-year-old boy that I was and I started to cry. The strange new man came over and swept me up into his protective arms and instead of feeling scared of him I felt safe. My small hand clutched at his shirt and I buried my face in his chest, tears streaming down my cheeks. My back seared with pain as he held me, but I tried to ignore it. The man whispered soothing words to me and I soon calmed down and the tears subsided.13

He led me out of my former prison and into another room where he placed me on my stomach on a bed. He gasped at the marks on my back, seeming slightly surprised at how badly I’d been whipped. I winced as he tended to my wounds, trying to be as gentle as he could.14

“Poor child. I’m sorry Zander, I should have been there sooner,” He said, sounding as if he were talking to himself more than me. I pondered at how he knew my name, but didn’t bother to ask.15

“Who are you?” I asked wearily, my eyes closing.16

“My name is Aeron,” was the last thing I heard before falling into a deep sleep.17

When I awoke I found myself in a different room then when I had fallen asleep. I lay in a big, comfortable bed. The door opened and the man Aeron walked in, carrying a plate of food.18

I sat up eagerly, hungrier than ever. He smiled down at me, handing me the food. I quickly polished off the plate, feeling quite content and full.19

“Aeron?” I asked timidly.20

“Hm? What is it young one?” he responded kindly.21

“How come I can’t remember my family?” I asked.22

“What do you mean?” he asked, completely serious now.23

“I can’t remember anything about my family or what happened to me before I was taken by that man,” I explained. I may be only five, but I know that I have a mother and father, and I wanted to know about them.24

He seemed distressed at this new knowledge about me and getting up he said, “I’m sorry Zander, I’ll be back soon. Maybe then I will be able to answer your question,” and he then left the room, leaving me wondering.25

It was hours before he came back and I had been exploring the room when he came back in. 26

“Zander, come here please,” he said to me.27

I did as he said. He stared down at me intensely and muttered a few words I couldn’t quite comprehend. He then put his hands on my temples, still mumbling these words. Sudden pain shot up in my mind, causing me to cry out. He stepped back in surprise and I clutched my head, dropping to my knees. I moaned in pain and Aeron knelt down next to me, taking me in his arms again and rocking me back and forth gently. I think he was a little confused at what was going on.28

I then caught a glimpse of my strange past. I saw my mother and my father and I think, my sister! I seemed to concentrate on her more than my parents, trying to memorize all of her features. My family and me were playing in my backyard, having fun, laughing. Something horrible happened though, and I learned then that my parents were dead. All I had left was my sister Payge, and we took care of each other. We were our own family, all that we needed. The memories started to slip away just as soon as they had come and I desperately tried to cling onto them, but they had already disappeared.29

My cries of pain had died down and I found myself still being rocked in Aeron’s arms. When he realized that I was ok now, he asked, “What happened Zander? Do you remember things now?” 30

“Payge,” was all that I said.31

“Who’s Payge?” Aeron implored gently.32

“I can’t remember!” I yelled, trembling. All I could remember was the name. Payge.33