"Where am I?" a voice asked groggily, as though it were drunk. A numbing feeling covered its body from head to toe. But the next second, a surge of smells, sounds, and feelings assaulted them. The sounds of voices all shouting assaulted their ears. The smell of chemicals, trash, and other horrible smells assaulted their nose. The feeling of cold air rushed over their body, causing them to shiver. The feeling of a hard stone ground pained their back, as though they had just rolled across some sharp stones.
The voice tried to lift their shirt up, but felt nothing but skin and a wet feeling covering their entire body, "I'm naked!"
The voice tried to move their hands to cover their privates and their face, in case someone saw them. But when he raised his hand to his face, shock froze him. His once-big, skinny hands were now small and pudgy. His once-calloused cover hand, used during construction, was replaced by a soft, smooth surface.
"What is going on?!" The voice shouted, but not with words. A frail cooing noise escaped his throat. His eyes widened as he tried to shout, but only this cooing noise escaped his mouth. He tried to shout louder, but it felt as though something was straining his vocal cords and limiting his words.
The voice then looked down at his own body and was once again shocked. His once tall body was now as short as a midget's. His stomach, which had strained and grown during his time in construction, was now replaced by a bloated belly that had a tube connected to his belly button. His feet, which many people made fun of for being too big, were now so small and stubby.
"What the hell happened to me?!" The voice shouted out in his mind. Nothing made sense to him. His once-tall, toned body was now reduced to this small, weak form.
"Okay, maybe this is a dream? Yes, a dream! Since it's a dream, all I need to do is just close my eyes and count to ten. Once I make it to ten, then I should wake up," the voice said, nodding to their own words, as they closed their eyes and began counting in their head.
"1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10!" The voice opened their eyes and stared down at their body. They had not returned to their former glory and were still stuck in this small, pudgy form. Annoyed, the voice tried to remember how this could have happened.
"Alright, so if I remember correctly. I had just woken up that day and got dressed to head to work at the new job I applied for. I think it was for a start-up tech company? On my way to work, I received a call and talked to someone. I think they were my siblings? I am sure the voice on the other end was my brother. Alright, then what happened? They told me that they were kicking me out of the house since I didn't make it to..." The voice stopped talking for a bit.
"Right. I didn't make it to moms funeral. But how was I supposed to make it there when the funeral was on the other side of the country! I barely had money to afford my share of the rent, and those two didn't even tell me when we were having the funeral!" The voice though angrily. If there was one person he wouldn't abandon, it was his mother. He had already missed her on her deathbed and wanted to make it to her funeral. But his two greedy siblings forgot about him and left without even telling him what was going on.
"Alright. Focus, once I know what happened to me and how to turn back to normal, then I can walk up to those two and give them a piece of my mind," The voice thought as he nodded his head. As he tried to recall his memories, a pain surged into his mind. A pain unlike anything he had felt before. He cried out loud in pain, and for once, his voice did not come out as cooing, but actual screams of pain. Although it still sounded weak.
"What the hell was that?! Why the hell did that hurt?!" The voice though as his small hands clutched his head. As he tried to recall the pain, his mind felt muddy and damp. As though he just forgot something.
"What was I trying to remember?" The voice thought, his mind wandering for a moment before finally snapping back. "Right! I was trying to figure out how I became like this!"
As the voice tried to remember how he became like this, he stared down and finally noticed the tube connected to his belly button. Curious as to where it leads to, he followed its trail with his eyes and landed on the source. To say he was shocked would be putting it lightly, to say the least.
"A woman!" The voice shouted, but only made a loud cooing sound.
Sitting against a wall was a woman wearing ragged, dirty clothes, with brown hair covered in black splotches and a pale complexion. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was faint. She seemed so frail and weak, but most of all, the tube connected to his belly button led to that one part of her body.
"Remember! What the hell was the last thing I did!" The voice thought as he strained his mind to think. The more he thought, the more his mind became muddy and slow.
"After the call, I made it to the job and discovered that they had gone bankrupt. On my first day on the job, the company went bankrupt. Then I tried to go back to my old construction job, but when I called, they told me they had already filled my spot with someone new. Which is my fault since I applied to a start-up and not a stable working environment."
A sudden shock of pain assailed his mind. He screamed once more, but didn't stop remembering. He focused with all his might to remember what the hell happened to him before he became like this.
"Girlfriend of five years dumped me! I came home to take my stuff, but it was sold! My bank account was flushed out and closed! I wandered the streets for several weeks hungry! Then..." The voice paused as it reached the end of its memories. A deep melancholy spread from his heart all throughout his body.
"I gave up. I had had enough and spent the last of my money on a hotel room. I raided the snacks in the room and ate until I felt full. Then, after that was done, I went to the roof and looked at the night sky. I stayed there for a long time before I walked to the edge of the hotel and jumped. Hitting the floor and bleeding on the pavement was the last thing I remember."
The voice looked at the pale woman whose eyes were closed. He had died, and yet he was alive again. He was confused, to say the least, but soon the confusion was gone, replaced by a firm understanding. He had died and had been reborn into this life. How he was reborn, he did not know. What he did know was that this woman was his mother, or his new mother at least.
The small body, the fat stomach, the weak cooing sound he made whenever he talked, and most of all the tube leading to the woman's privates all pointed to that outcome. He had been reborn into the body of a newborn, and this woman was his mother. He would deny this fact and, in his mind, should not deny it for his mother seemed so weak and frail. More so than him.
He tried to flip his body around and onto his belly, but his body felt so weak and tired. As though trying to move this much was his limit. His eyes felt heavy, and his body seemed to be relaxing.
"Maybe, I could take a small nap," the voice thought as he slowly closed his eyes. His eyes fluttered for a few moments as they were prepared to close.
"Don't sleep."
A strange voice rang through his ears, causing him to jolt back awake.
"Save your mother."
The strange voice spoke once again.
"Don't repeat the same mistake again."
"Again," the voice thought as he turned his small white eyes to look at his sitting mother. Her body seemed so beautiful at a glance, but at a closer look, she looked as though she had just climbed out of hell itself.
Her face had bruises of different sizes. Looking through the holes in her raggy clothes, she seemed skinny. Her ribs were showing, and her belly seemed to be dipped in, as though she hadn't been eating for days. Both her arms and legs, long and skinny, were covered in scars that seemed like cut marks. The black spots on her hair had bugs crawling through them.
A tremor rang through his heart as he finally looked at the woman who had given birth to him. A feeling of great unease ached in his mind as he stared with held breath at this woman. A woman who seems to have faced so many things far worse than he had, yet had given birth to him...
The voice looked around him and finally noticed the surroundings. The walls were made of concrete, there were trash cans nearby filled with trash, and trash bags piled next to them. Broken glass littered the floor, and pipes dripped green liquid. He could see animals similar to rats run across the distant, dragging a severed hand in their mouths.
He was born in a dirty alley. By a woman who seemed to be ready to pass on.
"Go to her."
A strange voice spoke in his ears once more.
He stared at his mother's pale complexion. With what little strength he had, he tried to flip himself onto his belly. The first attempt failed, leading to some nearby glass cutting his skin.
But he tried again.
His second attempt also failed, cutting him with the glass once more.
But he tried once more.
On his third attempt, he finally managed to go on his belly. Exhaustion and pain ravaged his mind. But he did not give up; he put his baby hands in front of him and crawled. He crawled across the pebbles that littered the ground. He crawled through the red liquid that spilled from his mom's privates. And finally, he crawled onto his mother's waist.
He gently placed his hand on her belly and could feel how skinny she was. How she managed to last this long and give birth to him was a mystery in itself. In all rights, she should have failed, and he should have died. Yet he didn't die; he was now before her.
.
.
.
Feeling something touch her, the woman's eyes slowly fluttered open. A beautiful hazel sparkled through her eyelids as her weak gaze looked down at whatever touched her. Her eyes slowly widened as she saw what it was that touched her.
Her eyes wavered for a bit as she weakly lifted her frail arms up. Her body ached and groaned as she tried to move, but she didn't stop. Her hands gently grabbed her child and brought him into her weak embrace.
She held him close, as though he might disappear from her embrace. And that was true, for those born in Floor 7 know firsthand how cruel this place truly is. Gangs ravaged the streets, wild animals stalked the alleyways, kidnappers broke into homes and took the children and killed the parents, and beasts in human skin walked the roads waiting to prey on the defenseless at any second.
She knew far too well these beasts as she suffered at the hands of one. Yet, she could not hate this child before her. How could she hate something that had no idea of what was going on around them? How could she hate a baby for the actions of its father?
No, she wouldn't hate this child of hers and that man. His blood flows through his veins, and his eyes shine in the child's own. But she would not judge him because of that man.
She held the child tighter, wrapping her knees around his back to make sure the cold air didn't bring harm to him.
He was her child, not that man's, and she would make sure he wouldn't become like him.
With what little strength she had left, she slowly stood up. Her body was wobbling, and her arm was holding onto the concrete wall beside her. She felt as though she would fall back down at any second. But she persisted and began walking through the dirty alleyway.
Her eyes lowered down at the child. His white eyes looked up at her, as though he could sense her pain. His small hand reached to her face as though he was trying to tell her something.
She simply smiled as she thought, "You are my child."