I'm sure no one hears me. I'm absolutely sure of it. Everyone is sound asleep; how could they hear me?
Maybe I'm being over dramatic. It couldn't get much worse, though. Why i have to plant this stupid thing in this stupid town, I'll never know. but one thing's for sure, and that's that they'll never see me coming.
"Oh, a boy, is it!?"
"Indeed, it is."
"Good luck to ya on takin' care o' that son o' yers."
"Thank you very much."
"Just one question though," he asked as if he were incredibly perplexed. "Why does the boy have mittens on? It's the middle of spring! He aint be needin' them mittens to keep 'imself warm!"
"No reason." she said. As if she wasn't scared down to her core. "Just has them on."
"Well, ya might as well take 'em off, then!"
"I don't think i can do that."
"And why not?" he was getting kind of prickly at this point, prying at her because he knew she had a secret.
"You... You know me and my family are very close to you and yours, and I would tell you most anything. I trust you; I really do, but this is too large for me to tell anyone outside the family. I'm not even going to tell most of them, anyway."
"I understand..." he paused, thinking a minuet. "But I'd really like to know this, and ya know I wouldn't tell another soul."
"No." she said, sounding very sure of herself. "I can't tell you. And that's that."
"Alrighty, then. But I think yer makin' a huge mistake." he said this with anger. More than enough to send her shivers down her spine.
"Oturan!" she called sharply, wanting to get out of that situation immediately. "Let's go."
"Hai." he ran up to her.
They walked away, leaving the opening in the city where he had been. Yet, they could still hear him screaming after her, "You'll regret keepin' that there secret from me! I'll find out... you say... could... *raah*!... and... s... h... r... "
His voice faded into the sounds of the night, no longer audible among the sweeping sounds, the clatter of tools, and the words of overly-drunken souls.
"Mama?"
"Hai?"
"Why... Why do I have to wear these? I taste bad things in these. Like sweat and stuff."
"I know... I know..." she paused as if she were thinking about the past. "We just don't want you to end up... ahh." she sighed. "I don't know, Oto; I just don't know."
"Oto!!" she said; she screamed. "Oturan!!!"
"He's gone." he snickerd. "Gone and he aint commin' back."
"No!!!" she cried hysterically. "No!!! Not my baby!!!"
"He's somthin', alright. We takes 'im 'cause we can. We takes 'im... so's we can have 'im."
"Please." she said in a tiny voice. "Please, just tell me he's alright. Tell me he's alive."
"No need to worry 'bout that, ma'am." he said. "No... need... to worry..."
"Gaaaaahhhhh!!!!!!!"
How? Oturan asked himself, with no reply. How did this happen? Why? Why did this happen? To me. To her. To... everyone. Everyone who is here now. I hear voices. Voices calling out to loved ones, hated ones, and even some calling out to strangers. Who do I call out to? No one. I call out to no one. Maybe... maybe just this once...
"No." he said aloud, shaking his head violently. "No, I can't. Never. I promised."
But he could not help himself. He took off the gloves which encased his hands so nicely. He took a deep breath... and screamed. A high pitch, ear-splitting scream. But it wasn't coming from his face. It was coming from... his hands.
"What the 'cuss' is that!"
"Someone... agh! Someone go back there!"
"Not me!"
"I'll do it!"
He walked back towards the sound. Earplugs in his ears and heavy-duty construction site headphones equipped, he ventured back to the piercing scream, investigating all the cells on the fast moving train.
"Hey!" screamed a child. He had one wing, the other one broken off. "A guard!" he yelled, so the person next to him could hear. She had pointy ears, like an elf, but was extremely tall. "Get him!!!!" and he stuck his wing trough the bars, just barely missing his face in an attempt to get the headphones off. The girl kicked her long leg out and managed to clip them, sending the head phones off his head.
Then the boy tried again to whack his face and somehow hit his ear, knocking the earplug out. He cried out in pain.
"Serves you right." he said. "Weakling."
The scream continued for as long as Oturan could hold it. He stopped to take a breath, but in that short amount of time, the guards somehow got to him.
"Well, well." heaved one of them. "What have we got here?"
"An oddball." another one answered. "Mouths on his hands."
"That's unusual." the first one replied. "That's why he's perfect."
"Haven't I heard of something like that?" asked a different guard.
"Yeah," said the second one. "An artist or something."
"Bah!" laughed the first one. "A freak? An artist?!"
"That's impossible!"
"No way!"
"Yeah, Yeah. From the rock village or something."
"Stop your fibbing!"
"Can't happen!"
"His name was something like... Damare?"
"Shut up?"
"No, no. It was... Ramaday?
"Idiot. you lie."
"Yeah."
They babbled on. Oturan was entranced. Another like him? It was impossible, he knew; but the thought astounded him, gave him hope.
"Oh. we were supposed to shut him up."
"You mean Damare?" he snickered.
"Be quiet."
"Mmmmmhhmm." Oturan mumbled.
His mouth was tied and his hands were bound behind him, the mouths on his hands gagged as well.
The guards had made a show of how disgusted they were of his hands. They argued over who would touch them, saying they were all afraid that he would bite.
This is awful. He thought. I'll never get out of here.
And the train rumbled on.
Author's notes: I have not written anything like this before. Please give me reviews, good or bad. I know you'll say that it's lame how Oturan is Naruto backwards, but i went through tons of other names backwards (i just wanted to do it) but none of them sounded quite as good as Oturan. So yeah...
