I wake up cold to the bone. My left arm is tucked under my side and the pins and needles are already starting to sting. My memory is foggy, I cannot be at home. I had the weirdest nightmare. My mum had been taken, I was running from my life and then I was captured.

My heart leaps into my throat as I sit up quickly. I force my dry, scratchy eyes open and wince at the bright flickering fluorescent lights. The memories flood back and what I thought was a nightmare, is reality. I immediately throw up all over the dirt-covered ground as my head spins and bile burns my throat.

I continue to dry reach as I try to stand up. I wipe my hand over my dry, cracked lips as the smell of vomit fills my nose, and my stomach heaves, threatening to spill whatever is left in there. With a groan I lean up against a rock wall, the coolness of the stones against my face makes me feel a little better. I'm in desperate need of water. All that running in the heat of a dry summer had already taken a toll on my hydration levels.

I'm so stupid, how did I think I could run away from Zenith? I should have headed into the city and not the bush. At least in the city, there were multiple abandoned buildings I could hide in, instead of the bush where I have zero experience. Now I've been captured, and my mother's sacrifice was for nothing!

My body aches all over. My palms are ripped open and bloody, every inch of me stings and aches and I groan.

Low voices make me look up and I strain my ears to hear what they were saying, but only one word comes through clearly.

My name; Eleanor.

I jerk up onto my unsteady feet, my stomach rolling again, and I can feel the early signs of a panic attack. I take deep breaths, but they hitch in my throat.

I've been captured. The man with the scar and the black eyes, he has me and I'm going to die.

I take in my surroundings of rock and dirt like I've been shoved into a cave somewhere with makeshift bars sticking into the ground and roof. I slowly back towards the cool stone wall and lean back into it.

What did they inject me with?

Panic floods my system again and I can't think clearly. My breath is coming in short, tight bursts, my face starts to tingle and then my arms and legs.

I can't BREATHE!

It's like someone is sitting on my chest, stopping the oxygen from getting into my lungs. I'm now having a full-on panic attack and I have no way out of this situation.

Quick, hard footsteps smack the stone floor as they come towards me. Anger begins to rage inside of me, completely shutting down my panic attack and when a face appears on the other side of the bars, I bare my teeth and an almost animal noise escapes my throat while dark red tinges my eyesight.

"Elly, relax, you're safe." A soft, familiar voice brings me back from losing complete control.

Liam Cooper, a guy from my high school, stands on the other side of the bars. He's tall with blond hair that is longer than I remember. I slowly stand up. He towers over me, his lips set in a hard line but his weary eyes dart all over my face, down my body to my cut-up hands.

"I'm not sure if you know who I am..." He begins.

"I know who you are, Liam." I hiss. "Since when did you become involved in Zenith? You think it's fun to drug girls?" I shout, running for the bars and pressing my face against them.

Liam backs away; his eyes wide with fright.

"Unlock the damn door, Liam" another familiar voice rings through my ears.

Another person from school, the vice principal, Mrs. Drew, stands in front of me with her arms crossed, her frizzy grey hair pulled back into a tight bun, pulling her wrinkled face tighter. Her sharp nose, which she always has pointing in the air, gives her that British snobby look, but her blue eyes twinkle with a kindness I had never seen before.

"Mrs. Drew?" I squeak.

"Calm down, we aren't the bad guys."

She clicks her tongue at Liam, who rushes towards the bars. He fumbles with the keys as he avoids looking at me. I push past him as he finally gets the door open and follows Mrs. Drew down a damp, narrow stone hallway. Liam hurries behind me, his boots slapping the floor.

"Why did you drug me?" I snap.

"We didn't know who you were." She snaps back.

She was never known for her patience.

"What do you mean, you did not know who I was? You taught me for two God damn years." I shout, throwing my hands up in frustration.

"Clearly!" She shouts back, "But I didn't see you until you got back here, and we didn't know if you had been compromised."

I reach up to the back of my neck and feel for the little tattoo, but something feels weird, a little cut that stings is there now.

"You mean what they put in the back of my neck?"

"Yes, they insert trackers" she huffs impatiently.

"YOU STILL LOCKED ME UP" I shout.

"DO NOT take that tone with me" she snaps, and I recoil.

I know full well the severity of her punishments, but this is not school anymore.

"Look, you have to understand, my mother, she was taken, and I had to run like hell through the bush with armed men chasing me and then I was drugged, so excuse me if my attitude isn't to your liking." I quickly say.

I catch a small, thin smile "Call me Anthia" she says as she pushes on a heavy metal door.

I roll my eyes. Call her Anthia? Seriously. I'm being immature, I know it, but I've just been through hell and my old vice principal is berating me over being mad about being drugged.

The room that we enter has walls made of stone also, and as I think about it, all I've seen is stone.

The centre of the room is occupied by a large, round wooden table with books and paper litter on its worn-out surface.

An older man stands up and walks towards me, his unkept hair is slightly greying on the side with a few speckles through the top. He's handsome, the rough stubble on his face suits him. His warm chocolate brown eyes look tired. He pushes his glasses up his nose and smiles.

"Hi Eleanor," he begins.

"Elly" I interrupt.

"Yes, Elly. I'm Marcus." He smiles warmly but his eyes dart to Anthea.

"I don't really care who you are, I just want answers, like where the fuck am I?"

Someone smacks me on the back of the head, and I wince. Anthea.

Abby used to tell me, "El, just let the anger out before you go all hulk on someone." I had always bottled up everything, and now I am taking her advice. Tears threaten to spill. I'm beyond compartmentalizing.

"I think we should sit down," Marcus says with a deep sigh as he directs me to a chair at the round table.