Cell Death

The first thing Zhao Huizhong remembers, the first thing he knows, life is unfair. His vision was blurry from the hot tears streaming down and staining his face. He was holding his hand out and shouting, but his words fell on deaf ears. His mother in front of him looked apprehensive. He's trying to reach her, trying to run to her as two men drag him away. His left wrist was already bruised from one of the men's grip. His right shoulder nearly dislocated as he was thrown into the back of a horse-drawn carriage. One of the men shouted at the boy, a language he couldn't understand, before they closed the door to the carriage.

It was dark, damp, and smelled of feces and blood. He looked around the carriage, wiping his tears away as he sniffled. No amount of adjustment to the dark would let him fully see what was inside. He can hear others crying, others he assumed were also kids like him. He feels around the floor, cringing when his hand touches a puddle of something he'd rather not investigate further into. Eventually his hand reaches a foot. The owner of the foot shrieking when his hand reached theirs. 

"I'm sorry", he says in a meek voice. The other said something in return, again, in a language he didn't understand. He returns back to his original position, there was no point in trying to find out what was around him, he'd find out when the doors opened again. Painstakingly, he pulls his knees to his chest and starts to cry into them, trying to not make noise.

The longer Zhao Huizhong was in the carriage the harder it was to breathe, his chest falling and rising dramatically as he tried to take in air. He stifles his cries in an attempt to breathe easier. Even though his cries had stopped it was to no avail, his vision became blurry again and his head sunk down.

When Zhao Huizhong wakes, he's in a different location, taking note of the stinging sensation in the back of his scalp and the odd feeling around his neck. He brings his hands up to his neck and pauses, breath hitched at the cold sensation of metal around his neck. He panics, he can't recall wearing anything metal. He tries to look down to his neck, but his eyes cannot reach. The only light in the room being the small peaks of sun through the wooden roof. 

His hands start to claw at whatever is around his neck, but he just couldn't get it off. He attempts again and again until the bed of his fingernails start to bleed from the lifting nails. He finally stops, shivering at the cool yet warm sensation of his ripped nails. Zhao Huizhong looked around the room even more, for some odd reason he felt as though he was going to be sick.

The room Zhao Huizhong was in starts to move, rocking up and down. The light that peaked through the roof moved around the room, revealing other kids sitting in the farthest corners of the room, as if they were trying to hide from the light. Zhao Huizhong can hear loud footsteps above from him and multiple men yelling. The room then tilts almost all the way, sliding around everything in the room to one side, some children shrieking as they get hit by cargo. 

The floor of the room started to become damp, water rushing through the cracks in the floor. That's when Zhao Huizhong realizes where he's at, he's in a boat. 'How did I get here?', he thought to himself. Zhao Huizhong watched as the other kids started to get up and run to avoid the cargo, and so did he. His foot is almost squashed by a large barrel, he rolls to the side to avoid it, holding on to a support beam to help himself off his feet.

He looks around again to see some of the other kids bleeding, blisters on their feet and fingers. He also had a few blisters on his fingers from holding on to the support beam. The room slowly starts to go back to its normal position, the floor still damp and the cargo still on one side of the room. The other kids seemed hesitant as if they were waiting for the room to tilt before they eventually returned to the farthest corners of the room again, doing their best to not get hurt by the moving cargo. Their cries were covered by the loud crashing of waves and the creaks and groans from the room itself being violently rocked.

When the seemingly never-ending rocking settles down and the light from the sun eventually does not reach the cracks in the roof he lays down, uncomfortably turning side to side as he tries to avoid the still damp spots in the floor.

That entire night he couldn't sleep soundly. The shaking of the room, the tilting, the loud crashing waves and the groans from the wood made it impossible to do so. By sunrise Zhao Huizhong had acquired more splinters, bruises and cuts from the hazardous wood the room was built from. His eyes started to go heavy and he started to nod off as sunrise peaked through the cracks in the ceiling and the sea calmed itself.

He couldn't have been asleep for more than half an hour before he felt a hot tugging sensation around his neck where the metal was. The tugging sensation guiding him to the farthest corners of the room like the other children. The door to outside, which he had previously not seen, was slammed open. A large man with short greasy hair and clammy pale skin walked in, a thin scowl painted his face. 

The man reeked of cheap musk, sweat and booze, his thick fabric shirt was stained yellow under the pits and back from sweat. He looked around the room and when his eyes landed on the children, he sighed annoyed and threw a bag into the room before leaving, slamming the door on his way out. The younger of the group seemed hesitant while the older ones immediately went to the bag. Around 7 older kids grabbed the bag and moved it into the corner of the room.

They opened the bag and Zhao Huizhong was hit with the stench of stale bread and an odd smelling drink he couldn't quite place his hand on but assumed it must've been some type of watered down juice or old water by the color of it once it's container was opened. One of the older kids, who couldn't have been older than 11 at most, looked at the drink with furrowed brows, closing its container before placing it onto the floor next to the bag. 

One of the younger ones snatches the drink container to inspect the liquid while the same older kid sorts through the bag. After eventually finishing whatever he was doing, he turns to the other kids. He nods at one of the other older kids before counting the other children, pointing and whispering under his breath as he counted the group, looking confused when his eyes landed on Zhao Huizhong. 

He turns to another one of the older kids and whispers to them under his breath, looking back to Zhao Huizhong before nodding and sighing. He reaches into the bag and pulls out a piece of bread, ripping off a piece about the size of Zhao Huizhong's palm before handing it to him, trying to keep his space from Zhao Huizhong by pinching the bread between the tips of his index finger and thumb.

Zhao Huizhong inspects the bread, looking at the other children who were also handed bread. He switches the bread between his hands a few times before he feels his stomach growl. Hesitantly, he brings the bread to his mouth and chews. He didn't enjoy the feeling of chewing the hard bread, but he couldn't afford to be picky. The other kids weren't as hesitant, practically eating their pieces in one bite. 

There was chatter between the other children, words he didn't understand. There seemed to be two main groups with a few stragglers here and there hiding in the corners of the room. One group consisted of older kids who seemed more confident, their backs straighter and their words less shaky, while the other main group consisted of the younger kids, who all talked to each other in hushed words. It seemed the food had lifted the others moods.

That same older kid who had given Zhao Huizhong the bread had tied the original bag tightly before tossing it into the corner. After the others finished their food, their moods slowly improved, with full stomachs they weren't as timid, now grouping up in their corners and talking in whispers to each other. Zhao Huizhong strays away from the group, the tiredness hitting him again as he curls up around a support beam and closes his eyes. 

That old man who had thrown the bag into the room hadn't come in until a week later. The group of kids surviving off of what little bread they could ration from the original portions and returning back to their original personalities. The older man stomped into the room, looking particularly angered as he threw another bag into the room.

This was now a routine to the group. Stuck in that dark room for long months with barely enough food, as more and more children were thrown into the small room. They couldn't fit comfortably in their space anymore, having to sleep shoulder to shoulder, having to walk on their toes to not step on anyone. The place was suffocating, many of the kids, including Zhao Huizhong, would stick their noses through the small cracks in the room to get a breath of fresh air, being met with salty air.

All until one day, the door was slammed open yet again, but instead of that same old man who angrily brought them their food, it was multiple men. They shout something into the room, causing the others to stand straight and Zhao Huizhong follows. The men sort the children into tightly packed lines, grabbing a heavy chain from outside the room and attaching it to the metal around their necks.

They are led outside the room, upstairs, to the deck of the ship. Zhao Huizhong's eyes water seeing the sun for the first time in months. His vision is blurry as he stumbles to follow the group. They are walked down to a dock, other people on the dock seeming uninterested in the group. Zhao Huizhong clamps his eyes closed before forcing them open, looking around his surroundings. 

They are walked down roads and alleyways to eventually be led to a tall house in the middle of a town. They are led inside the house; the front half of the group being separated from the back half of the group which Zhao Huizhong was in. The front of the group is led up a pair of stairs as the older men take the back of the group down a flight of stairs. 

At first the stairway was dark, being unable to see anything so they had to rely on the rough stone walls to not fall. Then after a minute of walking warm light fills the group's eyes. They walk into the warm light to be met with a large circle stage surrounded with rows and rows of seats that were higher and higher the farther they were from the middle circle stage. The wall was no more on their left side, and with no railing to protect them they gripped onto the wall on their right.

The walk down made Zhao Huizhong dizzy, afraid he'd fall, or another kid would slip causing him to fall. There were adults sitting on those seats, all dressed extravagantly and with white, shapeless masks covering either half their face or their full face. In the middle of the arena were two teenagers, one of them bleeding from their head as they wallowed in their agony. Visceral screams ripped from their throat as their blood stained the floor of the stage. The teenager opposite them stood in front of their helpless, downed form. With a strength Zhao Huizhong had only heard of in legends, the standing teenager stomped on the other's head, crushing it in one blow as the audience of adults watching this fight boom.