Hey all sorry about the wait been busy…In this we will finally know what is happening to Sam…since I haven't shown heads or tails of him since chapter one…also thank you ElenaBolton20 for helping me with this chapter as well…
Also thank you all again for the reviews and thank you all for reading it and bearing with this story…still trying to figure out what to do about Shadows but I will tell you when I plan to update it again…
Chapter 4
Sam's Pov
I sat in my cell I was scared and I wondered where Dean was he always managed to help me with staying calm when I was scared.
I looked up as my cell door opened
"Hello punk"
"Where's my brother"
"None of your concern for now you are needed to help some other slaves clean up a building that fell down"
"But"
"No buts and if you think about running your brother will suffer you hear"
I nodded forcing the tears back as best as I could I was scared, hungry and alone.
Outside, there's a chill to the air; not freezing chill, but a nipping chill. The one that makes your nose itch. I hug my arms around myself, shivering, but trying not to. The man scares me, and I wish Dean was here. Or my dad. "Here. Get to work." He tosses a pick ax at me, it cuts along my face; from my ear to jaw, I feel the warm blood slide down my cheek and the stinging pain as the wind whips it. I sniffle and turn to see the rubble of a fallen building, other workers, working hard. I wonder how many of them contemplate an escape plan, but I put it out of my mind. I don't want Dean to get hurt because of me. Huffing a heavy breath, I walk to the nearest spot to me and I heaved the heavy pick ax above my head; I hit the rock and rubble, but the ax bounces off and hits my head. I feel blood clump in my hair and run down my forehead and temple. "Hey...kid." I turn my head, I see a girl about Dean's age. "You okay?" I shake my head, she sighs, kneeling in front of me. "What's your name?"
"It...it.." I can't speak, my lips are trembling from the pain in face and head, she wipes the dirt off her face. Holding out her hand and smiling kindly.
"I'm Layla...but they don't give names here. My number is 120346." I don't even know my number...I wonder what Dean's is.
I swallow, taking her hand and shaking it shyly. She runs a hand through her hair, and picks up my pick ax. "Here..let me help-"
"Hey!" the guard yells, stomping over to us like he's a two year having a fit over someone taking the last swing on the swing set in the park. He grabs my hair, yanking me back, and shoves Layla back hard; making her land on her rump.
"No talking and no stopping work unless your told!" she shakes her head, "but he's hurt-"
"Too bad!" he yanks my hair harder, I bite my lip as tears run down my face. The pain becoming worse than it was. The blood beginning to dry on my face.