Chapter 2- 'Forgotten' People that Ramble

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Real Quick AN: so so sorry I haven't updated I was debating whether to keep up with this bc its already cringe and the last story I wrote I think is major major major cringe but it's somehow exploding with likes ?? But that's so awesome that people actually like that story enough to favor it and put them on their actual reading list thank you so so so so soooooo much if you've done that I think it's abseloutly crazyyyyy. Thank you so much for even choosing to read this story like whol e kamoleeeee !!!

I'm also really sorry for all these authors notes I know they're super super annoying but there's not really any other way to make like announcements or say thank you for everything so...


\\Nine's POV\\\

Wait a minute... Twelve? Seriously? Is it that Twelve I'm thinking of?

No. No way. This has got to be a coincidence. Some really twisted prank and this 'Twelve' is really only an irrelevant asshole.

I sat up and looked at him. I had to double check.

Short brown hair, messy bangs, big brown eyes, smallish nose, thin lips, thin face, thin torso, thin legs, hell just thin everywhere, a barely noticeable scar on his left shoulder...

Oh god. It's him. It's definitely him.

"Nine? You okay?"

I quickly snapped out of my daze and nodded to answer him, despite it being a lie. I've told so many lies I've lost count.

I also quickly curled back into my ball. Probably shouldn't have done that, I'm really trying not to give a shit right now. I don't really know what to think, hell, what to do even.

"Well... I gotta go get my stuff. I'll be back soon though" he said, and with that, he left. Thank the people who were stupid enough to invent lettuce thrown together with some sick ass vegetables and dressing.

///Twelves POV//

As I was walking to my car, I let my thoughts mostly control me, kind of like this:

"Why did Nine look at me like that? Did I say something wrong? Wait a minute...Nine... Nine... That name sounds so familiar, but I can't put my finger on it. Well, it is a number... But I've definately have met someone named Nine before, haven't I? Ugh damn, I wish I could've refused to have taken that shot..."

Oh, the shot I'm thinking about erased all of my memories from around 11 and younger. Really my first memory is meeting my new adoptive parents for the first time. I only overheard that I was restrained while the shot was happening, so that's really the only thing I know past that moment, though I don't actually remember it. Gosh darn that sounded like I'm making you feel sorry for me... Well don't, k? Anyhow,

I was really lucky. My adoptive parents are so nice and loving, I love them a lot. I've asked them before about my past, but they said they didn't know anything about it either. They tried time and time again for the doctors and rescuers and random people in suits to tell them but... They refused.

Why would they refuse to? Was it really that bad? Wait... Couldn't they have gotten an agent to sear-

Pfffftttttt. None of this should even matter in the first place. 'The past is the past'... I even said that aloud! To an actual person! From what I remember, I have a really decent, happy, happy life. Sure, I may not be the brightest, going into mostly sped classes at this community college, but hey, intelligence doesn't really matter to me. All I need to know is common sense... Oh, and socializing. Socializing is the most important to me.

Am I rambling? Sorry, I tend to do that. A lot. Be warned. Actually, warn me, if you could. Like now. Like I can't stop speaking writing thinking reflecting actually that's the same thing as thinking however you're interpreting these words to be said or written. Back to the thoughts:

"But why would his name be a number too? Is it just a really really weird coincidence? But who names their child a number? Why did my parents keep my name if they don't know the context behind it? Maybe because- OH GEEZ CATCH THAT!! Phew, that was close... But... what was I thinking of again... Oh right! Naming your own child a number..."

It took me a while to get all my shit together in the room, because geez (trying to sware less... Oh wait..) do I hATE unpacking, actually packing is so much worse... Oops, rambling, say something people!

But when I finally finished, I already noticed Nine stood up right away and fixed a book that was flat instead of leaning against other books. I knew this was gonna be a long year.

"It doesn't have to be abseloutly perfect!" I said, and he did not respond at all, completely avoiding eye contact with me and going strait back to reading his book. Trust me, I did try getting a glance at what it was, but it was gold, fancy letters on a maroon spine, so I couldn't really see the words on it..

I tried asking him what he was reading too, and there was no response. How isolated can one person be?

Well it doesn't matter. He won't be so isolated anymore after this year. That's my goal. Because I hate seeing people so alone when they really shouldn't be.

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