Chapter Seven: A ceiling-row view.

I stared apathetically down into the room. Huh. Well, this was an odd sensation. I tried to turn my head to the left; nothing happened. I didn't move. To the right? Nope. Up? Can't. Down? No go. If I can't turn my head, I might as well just get used to staring in one direction, huh? Staring at this room for all eternity.

This room... I've seen it before. Definitely. In fact... I honestly can't remember seeing another room, ever. It seems that I've already been staring here for an eternity, apparently.

There's a bed in the room. A dresser. A desk. A door that leads into the hallway, though I don't know how I know. Another door that must surely lead to the bathroom, although I can't see from this angle. Never have been.

A pounding at the door. My ears register the sound, but they're not ears, are they? Nope. Oh well, I can still hear. A stirring on the bed tells me that no, I'm not the only one here; however, this other person can move. She's a teenager, brunette, with hair that would hang halfway down her back if she sat up, I can tell. She covers her head with a pillow and tries to go back to sleep.

"Wake up, you newbie! You need to get up now!"

A voice adds to the pounding, and I can only conclude they are coming from the same source. A boy from the sound of it. A far too cheerful for this time of the morning boy. The girl groans and hoarsely shouts, "Go away!" I don't think she realizes that she's yelling in the wrong direction.

"Look, either open this damn door or I'll break it open!" the male voice responds, somehow both sounding irritated and retaining the friendly quality.

"Fine, go ahead! I don't care! Not my fucking door!" The pounding stops. There's no reply from the other side of the door. Did he leave? I thought that he meant the threat. I realize that he did, indeed, mean it, just as the door bursts open, slamming against the wall. Someone will need to fix that dent.

When the door swung open violently, the girl had jumped into a sitting position. Now, she stared at the person standing in the doorway. I was right; it's a boy. There's a youngish quality about him, probably from the extra fat that is making him slightly chubby. Combined with the red hair falling into his face constantly and green eyes that smile along with his mouth, there's an intrinsically friendly quality about him.

"I told you I'd break open the door!" Even if neither of them know that I am here, as my presence has not been acknowledged, I can feel the triumph in that statement.

"Uuuhh..." the girl supplies. I suppose she is confused, but I don't know why. I think I have seen this boy before, though... the smile seems familiar.

"Forge Limiter." That's his name. Yes. I can remember it now, but not where I know it from. The girl continues staring; I am beginning to think that her IQ is less than sufficient to hold adequate conversations.

"I'm sorry, what?" Why does she apologize?

"That... that's my name. Forge Limiter." The girl has never met him before, then. Unless she doesn't quite remember, like me. Somehow I get the feeling that our situations are different, though.

"Oh." She seems embarrassed by her slow thinking. "Well... I'm Te--"

Forge Limiter makes a sudden jump towards her, startling her into cutting off. What was she going to say? "No real names!" he hissed. "None!" Her name. What was her name? It starts with a T. That's what I will call her, then.

T pauses, before beginning to glare. I am sure that there is a crucial piece of information I am missing, now. It is just a name, and should not make her this upset. Apparently, Forge Limiter is just as dense as he is friendly, when it comes to reading facial expressions. He plows through.

"Right. Well, you need to come with me pronto. Dr. Jacobs said she hasn't checked you out yet, and we don't want to keep her waiting--"

"No," T says firmly. Forge Limiter doesn't understand, and neither do I.

"No what?"

"No, I will not come with you anywhere, period." T crosses her arms to make it clear that she means what she says. Forge Limiter frowns; I can tell he is irritated.

"Hey, look, I know I came in and ruined your sleep and stuff," Forge Limiter decides to drop the friendly attitude he formerly had. "but that's no reason to treat me like crap! So get over your issues!" Issues that T most definitely has.

"I would like to think that at the moment I have the right to have issues," T hisses. Good. Everyone is now aware of the fact that something is wrong with her. But doesn't she want it fixed? It seems not.

Forge Limiter laughs in the back of his throat, and it emerges as a snort. "Yeah, right. And why's that?"

"Oh, I don't know, because I was fucking kidnapped from my house last night by you creeps!" At hearing this, Forge Limiter changes moods once again, quite seamlessly.

Now he's gone from slightly angry to apologetic and awkward. "Geez... I--You're... one of those? You didn't respond to the employment letters at all or anything?" He runs a hand through his hair, and I can tell that it isn't because it was falling in his eyes, but rather as a nervous habit. "Man--I--...I'm sorry."

T looks taken aback. She probably deserves it. But she's confused, too. "Employment letters? And--you didn't know I'd been kidnapped?"

Forge Limiter drops his hand from his hair and shakes his head back and forth. "The employment letters that they send out to their potential employees starting at legal working age. You're supposed to get one every two months, but if you don't respond for two years..." The legal working age is fourteen, I believe. If the implied consequence of not responding to these letters is kidnapping, then T is probably 16. Barely able to drive. Forge Limiter reaches up and pinches his nose between his eyes. "Geez. I so don't need this headache. You're one of, like, three people--four, now--that ended up here like that."

Where is here? I know this room. I know this boy, this Forge Limiter. I do not know this girl, T. Exactly where am I, and why can I not remember any specific thing prior to this event?

"Listen... I'm sorry for acting horrible at first." T is speaking. By the tone of her voice I can tell she feels a bit guilty--I can't see her face; I'm located above and a bit behind her. "Do--do you think you could get me out of here, using whatever it was you used on the door?"

I think I would like to go with them. But Forge Limiter's face seems to be folding in on itself, his eyebrows slanting downwards and his eyes drifting towards the floor. Sadness. Apology. Guilt?

"I can't. Not because I don't want to," Forge Limiter breathes in, and it's a bit shaky. "but because there are about 50 security guards patrolling the place at any given moment. Even if I did somehow manage to get you past all of them... well, the Trackers would bring you back within a day or so, and we'd both get in trouble."

I can tell what Trackers are from their name, but the way Forge Limiter says it--I know there is more to that word than first glance reveals.

Oh! But, now I remember. I remember why I am stuck in this position, this angle. I remember why I don't have any ears. Why this room and that boy look so familiar.

I'm a security camera that was installed two years ago.