I have very few memories of when I was a child, like normal people. But those I have are full of pain. I don’t know why, so I’ve banished them to the corners of my mind. I hadn’t thought about them for a long time, and I had almost forgotten them. But then the men in the suits knocked on my door.
Now I’m on the run, but I can’t stop the clock ticking. They’ll find me eventually. I can’t hide forever. They embedded a tracking device deep into me at the same time. When they branded me.



