The sickly stench of human waste filled the dark, small container they were held in. No light could enter, no sounds could escape. Fifteen year old Hannah sat, curled up in a ball with her brother on her feet, in a corner of the blue metal shipping container where they were pushed in at gunpoint. They had been on holiday in South France, renting a villa by the luscious sands of Cote d'Azur. Now, her family, lay covered in sweat, urine and blood. Her father was shot before entering the container - the first day he spent panting rapidly, desperately trying to draw in some of the musty air. Her mother had tried what she could, but silence fell over him. After that, her mother gave up. She didn't eat the food that was left for them, she didn't fight with the other families for the little water available at first. It took three days. Three days in the excruciating heat, that was the shipping container in the day, to destroy half a family. Hannah was left with her little brother, James. Both were filth ridden. Both were scared. Both had cried, wondering when it would all be over. Now they were five days into the journey, other families around them had suffered losses, other families understood their pain. But they sat alone. The ones with no-one left sat in silence, dark looks of dampness about their eyes. The sickly stench of human waste filled the dark, small container they were held in. No light could enter, no sounds could escape. Fifteen year old Hannah sat, curled up in a ball, in a corner of the blue metal shipping container where they were pushed in at gunpoint. They had been on holiday in South France, renting a villa by the luscious sands of Cote d'Azur. Now, her family – the ones that were alive, lay covered in sweat, urine and blood. Her father was shot before entering the container - the first day he spent panting rapidly, desperately trying to draw in some of the musty air. Her mother had tried what she could, but silence fell over him. After that, her mother gave up. She didn't eat the food that was left for them, she didn't fight with the other families for the little water available at first. It took three days. Three days in the excruciating heat, that was the shipping container in the day, to destroy half a family. Hannah was left with her little brother, James. Both were filth ridden. Both were scared. Both had cried, wondering when it would all be over. Now they were five days into the journey, other families around them had suffered losses, other families understood their pain. But they sat alone. The ones with no-one left sat in silence, dark looks of terror about their eyes. Hannah held on tightly to Jamie. No food was left now, nor any water. If they were intended to survive to reach their destination then they must be getting close. Jamie shivered in her arms as Hannah tried holding him still, muttering the words, "It will all be alright." in his ears over and over again. A young baby had started to cry in the corner of the container. Hannah looked up. It was trying to attach itself to it's mother's breast. It's mother sat unresponsively against the tall metal wall. Now wailing louder, other members of the group were looking up at the crying. No-one was sure what to do. Hannah eased Jamie away from her, pushing his sweat ridden brow out of his blue eyes. She left him curled up against the wall. He watched her sillouhette as she crossed the shipping container, passing over wet sticky patches on the ground, dark shapes of discarded clothing and the bodies of those that had fallen. She reached out a fading hand to the woman and gently pushed her shoulder. Nothing. She felt for her neck with her fingers to try and find a pulse. None.
"She's dead." Hannah rasped. Uncaring and unresponsive eyes met these words. Then a man stood up, fairly large in stature, now alone since his partner had fallen into unconsciouness or death. He crossed over the container to join Hannah. He looked down at the baby and raised a fist. "NO!" Hannah shouted, reverberations echoing around them. She jumped up and grabbed his arm, pulling it back. The man flung her onto the floor. Weakly, she dragged herself back up and dived infront of the baby, taking an almighty blow to the stomach, where the babies head had been moments before. The man above her grunted and the baby continued to wail.
"He'll only make the guards angry!" The man roared at Hannah.
"And you will become a murderer for your survival?" She screamed back. He stopped, his eyes wide open.
"This baby will die anyway without his mother." The main said, trying to pull Hannah off again.
"We were meant to survive. They gave us food. Now it's run out, we can't be far off." Hannah said, echoing any feelings of hope that any survivor's still had. The man's arms suddenly went much weaker as he sighed and went back to where he sat. Hannah picked up the baby and placed her finger in it's mouth to stop it's crying, even if she couldn't help it's hunger. She took him over to Jamie and sat down again, one cradled in each arm. Jamie looking up at the baby every so often.
"What's his name?" Jamie said eventually.
"I don't know." Hannah replied, deciding against naming him. With no name, there was no attachment.