I am 95.I

- 1 - Atem Cereza -

Orphans...

No one gave a damn about them, right? That's why they always used orphans for the most unpleasant things. Experiments, to let out steam, to turn into monstrosities. No one would miss us. No one would look for us. No one would care for us, because we were never wanted in the first place. We weren't born to be wanted. We weren't supposed to be alive, or living. We were mistakes, or unwanted living spaces that had no reason or purpose. Of course, as a person, you have to give yourself a purpose. Orphaned or not. But, being born as an orphan, that's all you're ever told. That's what comes to mind first, when you wonder why you don't have a mother or father like normal kids. You wonder if you ever had siblings.

As a baby, I only ever remembered seeing another baby's face. Others who had to grow up with a sibling, wonder if you'll be separated if someone adopts only one of you and not the other. You think that you're weird, odd. Not normal. No matter how optimistic or hopeful we try to be that we will one day find a place where we are loved and wanted, that still lingers in mind. Doesn't matter how successful you are, doesn't matter if you've found a safe haven. It still hurts and it will always hurt deep inside, no matter what age.

The main thing orphans are wanted for, is to be guinea pigs. Especially children. We're young, naive, and we don't have much of a purpose as it is as said before. For a kid at the age of five, I've seen quite a lot of twisted and morphed shit in my life. I matured mentally, as a lot of orphans do at a young age. That's why I always stayed to myself. I was skeptical when I knew I had to be about certain things. I knew how people thought about us. I knew what some twisted people used us for. I wasn't stupid. That's why, when they came to the house of my foster mother, I got worried.

I was a very small boy. I was shorter than kids my age. I had wide, big red eyes that were slightly slanted. People found them 'scary'. I had round cheeks and a small nose, with a thin straight line for a mouth. I never smiled. I had odd spiky black hair with red lining it, and blonde locks that hung in my face while some stayed up framing my hair like lightning bolts. People didn't like that either. I had caramel tan skin, that others found was 'strange'. I was a foreign kid living in Japan.'Was told that I had an Egyptian mother. According to my last name, Cereza, that meant 'cherry' in Spanish, I had an odd heritage that I knew nothing about. Only a few more orphans lived in the house with me, but we weren't exactly the most wealthy. Since I was born, I've had to be transferred and moved in different places of the world. I was never kept, simply because adults thought I was an 'odd child that seems uncomfortable to be around'.

Regardless, I was used to living in the worst environments, and I was used to not having money and being poor. The house wasn't the cleanest, but it wasn't intolerable. For five kids, we had to share one small room. Three beds that we all had to share. Only a few toys, one tiny television that was downstairs. And that was it. That was our only entertainment. Not that I cared, I wasn't much into toys or TV like others were. I was an outcast, among outcasts. And that was truly sad. No other kids liked me, no one went near me or talked to me. Some adults even thought I was a mute, because I never spoke to anyone, because no one spoke to me. I always slept in a bed all to myself, because no one wanted to share it with me.

My foster mother was a bitter middle-aged single divorced woman. I hated all adults in general, but she was the one person I could tolerate. For some odd reason, despite how angry and lonely she seemed, she always liked me. I always supposed because I was more mature than everyone else. She let me do all the chores, because she thought everyone else was too incompetent.

To me, I thought it was just an excuse to let me do all the housework, but I eventually realized she was honestly telling the truth. She always praised me for 'not being a brat' and never annoying her like the others did. I was obedient and always did what I was told. Even though I only lived in her house for a year and two months, I was the only person she talked to about her adult problems. Problems that I still didn't quite understand fully, but got the gist of. As if I was her only adult friend. Unfortunately, she still wasn't a very good mother. She raised everyone dumb. I was the only one who realized that I needed to have some form of education. I taught myself to learn how to read and write, and read at least five books a day, which was why I was more intelligent than others.

One day, I was sharpening the kitchen knives. My foster mother never felt like doing it, so she always asked me to. She also praised me for this task, because I was the only one who could get them nice and sharp without cutting myself. "He's the only one who does it right," she would say to other kids who wanted to help. They weren't so lucky. No wonder a box of bandages was always near by the spice rack. I was excellent at sharpening objects. That included kitchen ware, pencils, even scissors. I guess that was my one hobby, besides making sure people stayed away from me.

A knock came at the door, and my foster mother went to go get it. I immediately heard whispers from the kids. They were murmuring about men in black suits. Once I heard the door open, my foster mother seemed shocked.

"Come right in, make yourselves at home.." She seemed timid. I peeked my head through the doorway to see what was happening. I saw the men they were talking about. There were three of them, and two of them were wearing black shaded glasses. The one man in the middle who seemed different, a man with really long light blue hair and heterochromic eyes. He had sharp features and some odd looking bindi on his forehead. At the time, I had no idea what the hell that was. Okay, sure we weren't normal, but this guy didn't look normal either now did he? He looked around a few times, looking at every single person's face. The kids were a bit frightened while some were excited.

"I would like a child." He said. That made everyone hype up. In an instant, those trouble-making brats all made themselves look like perfect little angels by sitting on the floor and smiling innocently. I sighed, knowing that I didn't really care. Frankly, I didn't want to be adopted. I went back to my sharpening, ignoring the heavy footsteps that I heard become louder and closer behind me. My foster mother followed closely behind as the other two men stayed in the living room. The man with long hair stood behind me, as my foster mother told him a brief summary about me.

"He's a distant child, but he is very well behaved. He's a good boy." She put on a fake smile, but I could tell she wasn't lying. That was how she truly felt about me. Even if she didn't love me, I knew I had her respect.

I felt a tap at my shoulder, and I mentally sucked my teeth. I reached up on the tip of my toes and put the knife and scissors down on the counter. I turned around to face the man, whom I had no idea would change my entire life. He bent down to my eye level, and smiled. It looked genuine, but I still didn't buy it. Like I said, I hated adults.

"Hello." He said.

"...Hi." I said back. I never spoke, unless spoken to.

The next few things he would say, would include the five questions that determined my future with this man. My answer to each question, would also determine whether he liked me or not. And the final question sealed my fate.

Five other children in different parts of the city, including myself, were asked these same questions with some additional ones. But I didn't find out about this 'game' of his until later.

He asked the first question. "What are you two favorite things?"

I was told by my superiors that my answer had amused him. "Silence and solitude." I said. The man blinked once, probably surprised that my vocabulary was impressive.

Second question. "Would you like a family?" He asked.

I shook my head in response. "No."

Third question. "How come?"

"Because most people can't be trusted. Especially adults." I narrowed my eyes at him, and emphasized the word adults as I stared. He only kept smiling.

Fourth question. "What do you do around here?" He asked curiously.

"I do chores and sharpen my foster mother's knives." She didn't mind that we called her 'foster' mother. Hell, she liked it better than saying her name. "She doesn't like dull or blunt kitchen ware." I explained.

Fifth question. "Are you happy?" He asked. When I looked into his eyes this time, I saw sympathy. Like he actually cared.

I shrugged. "No. And I don't think I'll ever be."

The man frowned. "Why is that?"

"Because," I started. "No matter where I go, nothing will get better for me." Some may think that I was a downer, or some depressed kid. Frankly, I was only telling the truth and how I felt. I never thought in a second, that my life would get better. I spent more time questioning why I was alive rather than enjoying being alive.

He asked, the final question. At first, it didn't work on me. "Why don't you come with me, then?"

"No." I said without hesitation. I swear I saw the bastard smirk at my answer. I reached up and grabbed the knife and scissors again. I started sharpening the knife again. The man cocked his head to the side, and rested the palm of his hand on his cheek. After a minute or two, he asked another question.

"Are you good with that knife, kid?" He asked. An odd question to me at the time. "And no offense, but please tell me where you're from. You look very unique." He knew from my skin that I obviously wasn't Japanese.

"Yes I am," I answered his first question. "And I was told that I was Egyptian."

"I can take you to a place where things do get better if you just work hard enough. I know you don't trust adults, but I promise you my word. You will definitely be happier with us there, than here." He asked again. "Come with me."

I looked down at my feet, staring and trying to figure out if I would regret this decision or not. I sighed to myself. This guy really seemed like he wouldn't leave me alone. Honestly, I didn't want to stay here at this house. It would be like just another transfer. I've been through a lot of crap. What could be worse than what I've already been through? I looked back up at him, who smiled once he saw my red eyes.

"Fine." I said.

The man's smile grew a little wider.

And once I accepted, my life became hell.

I was taken to the back of a black van. Once I got in, they told me not to say a word while back here. Five other children were here, but one of them seemed a lot younger than we were. He was just a baby, being cradled in another boy's arms. The other children were around my age, but the boy holding the baby looked the eldest.

The eldest boy had short chestnut brown hair, with deep blue eyes that were almost covered with his bangs. His face was round like mine, and he had a shy expression. He looked in my direction, his face slightly turned red. He looked back down at the baby with a small smile. I assumed it was his relative. Perhaps a brother. The baby had black hair, and his eyes were closed. He was sleeping the entire day away.

I looked next to me, and saw the only girl in the car. Short dark brown hair and blue eyes like the other boy, and thick pretty eye lashes to compliment her feminine child-like appearance. What I noticed about this girl, was that she was wearing ragged clothing, while everyone else except one boy seemed to wear normal clothes.

I looked across from me, to see another boy that had a strong resemblance to me, excluding his skin color and eyes. He was of course, Japanese, and had wider and rounder beautiful purple eyes. His cheeks were plump, making him seem adorable. At the time, it was odd to see such a cute boy shivering as if winter had just rolled in. His eyes were slightly shrunk, as if he just saw his worst nightmare. He kept twitching and sniffing as if he was about to cry. He was hugging himself, rocking back and forth. Everyone just stared at him, wondering what in hell had him so scared. And why, he had on a hospital gown.

There was one last boy, sitting next to the scared looking child. He wanted to scoot away, but the back wasn't the most spacious for five children, not counting the baby. It seemed that no one was allowed to take anything with them from their orphanages or homes. Perhaps this was why, capacity. He had bright green eyes, and black hair with short messy bangs. His expression was obviously creeped out.

I saw some of them exchange looks at me, seeing as how I was very different. No one spoke a word the entire ride, like we were told. Eventually, we all fell asleep after a few hours.

Once we got to our destination by sunset, we saw a ginormous black tall building. It looked dark, like something the government would be using. Once we saw this place, some of us were scared while some of us were excited. We were guided by the three men into the building. The first floor was extremely spacious, only having one desk with an empty office chair behind it. Across from it, were three elevators. We were guided to the second one, and one of the men pushed the button. Once we stepped in, our fates were truly sealed at that second.

I knew that bastard lied to me. How? Because once we walked to the floor we needed to be on, things didn't seem right. The building, took way too long to get to. The area surrounding the building, was just grass. Grass and green fields for miles away. Like this place was secluded, isolated from the real world. This was a hidden place, that was working with something. And this place didn't want to be in public for a particular reason.

That man with the blue hair stepped in front of us and said, "Welcome. This is your new home now. You will stay here from now on. This place, may not be the home you wanted. But I did not lie. This is a place where you will be happy and where you will become successful if you just work hard enough. And of course if you obey the rules." His face tightened up a bit. "You will all be trained to become Japan's best soldiers of the government. You will become stronger, powerful and successful all at once in due time. You will not be allowed to go outside or leave the premises. If you try to escape, you will be killed on the spot."

Everyone gasped while I only stared with hatred.

"Disobey any order, and you will be physically punished. And I mean something worse than just a spanking." His expression softened. "You are all safe, as long as you behave like good children." He looked down at the brown haired boy holding the baby, who seemed fearful yet protective. The man gently picked the baby up from his hands, cradling him delicately. "Your bother, will of course be taken care of in a much more gentle manner. He will not be with you during your training. Gozaboro will let you visit from time to time." The boy looked like he was about to cry. I didn't know who Gozaboro was yet until later.

"N-No...Give back Moki!"

"I am sorry, but he could not endure the intense labor you all will be facing. Not at this age." He began walking down the hall that held numerous black doors. "Escort them to their new rooms. The girl will come with me." He commanded, walking away with his little baby brother and pulling the only girl in the group away. His lackeys roughly rushed us into a room, where there were dozens of bunk beds.

I had to admit, these beds were the cleanest I've ever seen. The walls were a pale blue, and there were no windows. The beds had blinding white sheets with fluffy looking pillows. Not only that, but they looked sturdy. Most beds I slept on were about to collapse. Okay, so our sleeping arrangements were pretty decent, no denying it.

The four of us all looked at each other in confusion mixed with fear. What just happened? What training and labor was he talking about? And did we just make the biggest mistakes of our lives?

Despite the fact that we all felt the same feelings, no one spoke a word yet. The lights were out, and we were forced to bed. I couldn't sleep, so I sat up throughout the night, trying to figure out why this happened.

Then, it hit me. Like a boxing glove colliding into my gut.

We were orphans. This bastard was using us for something. He wanted us to be a part of whatever military system he was talking about. Why us? Because getting any civilized person would be too much trouble. Everyone thought we were adopted. No one would come looking for us. And if from what I read about the government was true, no one necessarily had to check up on us by our foster parents. They could get away with anything scott-free, especially dealing with outcasts.

I sighed heavily, covering my face with one hand. What the hell did I get myself into?

After a few minutes, I looked up from my bottom bunk bed to see that only one person was in bed asleep. The boy with brown hair, and the boy who looked like me, were still awake. The boy who had brown haired was glowering at his bed posts, angry. He was sleeping on the top bunk. There were several, so we could sleep where ever we wanted. That was the only liberty we had so far. The boy whom looked like me, was crying silently and rocking back and forth again. Something was definitely wrong with this boy. He twitched and limped as he walked, he was always shivering, and he always seemed scared at something.

I only stared, half-caring and half-not caring at the same time. I felt sympathy, but not compassion. Once I turned around, I felt a tap at my shoulder. I turned back around and almost jumped. That identical boy was right in front of me. How did he move so fast, I wondered. He was sniffing, holding his hands in front of his chest. He looked even more frightened up close. I had to admit, with those glossy purple eyes pooling with tears, he was getting to me.

"I-I'm really sorry..." He sniffled. "B-But please...I can't sleep without something to hold onto. I-If I hold my pillow at night, I'll probably rip it to pieces in my sleep." Another sniff. "I-I don't know what will happen to me if they found that I messed up something. M-May I sleep with you?" He asked. I could see he was still trying to keep his sobbing to a minimum. Didn't want anyone to hear him, I suppose. Also, what kind of kid rips apart a pillow while they're holding it in their sleep? Never have I met a kid who did that.

"..." I hesitated in speaking. It was the first time in my life that I've ever spoken to another child. "Why are you asking me?"

"W-Well," He stuttered. "One boy is asleep, a-and that other boy seems so angry. Y-You're the only one who seems nice enough to me. So please?" He asked, a whimper in his voice. This time, I sighed through my nose. Yes, thanks for giving me the whack-job.

Could I say no? Frankly, no. He was the only child who I ever encountered who didn't avoid me. Nor, did he insult the way I looked. He treated me as if I was a normal person, and it'd be rude not to do the same for him just because of the way he carried himself. He was actually, being nice to me. And for the first time in my life, I felt good inside. Besides, the boy really seemed like he was having a nervous break down. As if he didn't have one already before getting here...

I scooted over. All the beds here were nice sizes with thick mattresses, despite only being bunk beds. There would be enough room anyway. I can only hope we were allowed to be sleeping like this. The boy's face lit up with pure joy, and I almost thought he looked cute. He quickly made his way over, scooting next to me and laying down while closing his eyes. I did the same, keeping a bit of distance away from us. The boy got closer and hugged me, making me feel weird. I never hugged anyone before.

I didn't know whether to return the hug or just try to sleep this way. I lowered my eye lids, surprisingly getting comfortable with his small arms wrapped around me faster than I thought. "What is your name?" I asked.

He opened one eye at me playfully with a smile. "Yugi. What's yours?" He asked me. Yugi...That name would forever be carved in my memory.

"Atem." I said. He nodded slowly, and soon fell limp on my body. I knew from the soft snores, that he fell asleep. I closed my eyes, trying my best to do the same.

The boy with the brown hair never went to sleep that night like the rest of us.

Tomorrow would be a hellish, new day, and a new beginning.

- END - 1

WARNING: This story is VERY graphic in the beginning. For the next chapter, it involves children violence. Read at your own risk.

A few things. I do not get a kick out of dead children, or child violence. However, this is the backstory of Atem's life. It was not very pretty, and as an orphan at such a young age, you don't get to live a pretty life I'm sure. I wouldn't know or understand perfectly of how an orphan lives, but I have witnessed it in real life before. Not all do, but most orphans have hard lives in many shapes and forms. He had to deal with terrifying things. The next chapter will show the torment he had to go through, and it only gets worse the next chapter. This is a warning. I do not want anyone yelling at me or PMing me that I am a warped and twisted writer who condones such horrible things. Do I write warped and twisted things? I sure do. Do I like those certain horrible subjects? Hell no. Especially not real life child violence. At the end of the day, it is wrong. But writing a fictional story about it, isn't. The next chapter will be posted very soon.