Okay, this chapter is shorter than I would have liked it to be, but hopefully the next one will make up for it! I hope you enjoy this and I hope I didn't use too much repetition...O.O

Reviews are always, always really appreciated!

xxx

1

9 Years Later

People often ask me about the scars on my legs. They ask if I was in an accident, in a fight; sometimes they even ask if I self-harm. The authorities have different views. I'm pretty sure that the care workers here think that I was abused as a child. They think that's the reason why I was running away.

The truth it, I don't know where the scars come from. Over time I've learnt to ignore awkward questions by wearing long jeans and pulling my socks up higher in P.E. Swimming always poses a problem, but I just have to pray no one notices. The scars just...appear. Out of nowhere. I got the first when I was ten. It was around nine o'clock in the morning and I was just sitting down at my desk in primary school when a searing pain ripped through my leg. I screamed, clutching my ankle as it began to burn, rolling around on the floor. They took me to hospital to examine it and found the first scar.

I got the next when I was thirteen. I was online, randomly flipping through blogs, when one caught my eye. It was by someone simply called 'Two', and for some reason it sent shivers down my spine. There wasn't any profile. No lengthy bio. Just one, simple post.

'Nine, now eight. Are the rest of you out there?'

I stared at it, my whole body tingling. It meant something, I knew it did. I just didn't know what. Without thinking, I moved the mouse towards the reply button. I don't know what I was going to write; Who are you? What do you know about me?

The questions were rushing through my head. Hesitating, I clicked the refresh button. And froze. There was a reply.

'We are here.'

And then the pain hit. I screamed, the nylon school trousers I was wearing catching fire. A carer rushed in, took one look, and grabbed a fire extinguisher, dousing me in white foam. More questions. More disbelieving looks and raised eyebrows. But I didn't elaborate as much as before. And I didn't show them the scar. I simply told them that I'd accidently trodden on a lighter and my trousers had caught. I was learning caution.

I was in bed when I felt the third scar. It happened a couple of months ago and it took me completely by surprise; it was the first time it had happened in three years. I gritted my teeth and managed not to scream as the pain worked its way around my ankle, the glow dimmed under the bed clothes. My roommate didn't notice; she just snored louder. And now I'm feeling a strange sense of fear, as I sit in the small dark room that had been my home for the last nine years. Because why do these scars appear? And what did that post mean?

'Nine, now eight...'

What are the nine? Or should that be who are the nine? Either way, why are there now only eight?

'Nine now eight...'

Posted by 'Two'...

'Nine now eight...'

And then the glowing scar which wrapped around my leg. The second scar. And when I looked up the webpage again the posts had been deleted.

'Nine now eight...'

The darkness and the fear is too great and I climb to my feet, going through my cupboard until I find the small cardboard box at the bottom.

'Nine now eight...'

Hands shaking, I pull out the envelope and open it. Inside is a strange necklace and a piece of paper.

'Are the rest of you out there?'

I unfold it and read the words which have confused me for so long.

You are number five.

I clutch the necklace tightly, wondering what it all means.

'We are here.'