It's 1984

Breakfast time.

It's roughly been a week since the incident happened. While everyone was enjoying their breakfast, no one seemed to notice that the boy was was still missing. Even his own sister, his parents acted like they just forgot he exists.

There he was, laying in a bed in a room with glass walls. A bunch of empty rooms around him. They all look the same. He couldn't quite look in to any of them but he felt like they were all filled with kids. Every hour from 9am to 10pm a bunch of people in long white robes stood around his room for about 20 minutes, they usually just stand there staring at him. Sometimes they showed him clipboard with questions on it, expecting him to answer them. By now he got used to the staring. Each day when the last group of people was done watching him do nothing, he scratched a line into his bed with his nail. No matter how much it hurt him, he did it to keep track of the days he has been there.

More days have past everyone went on about with their day like nothing was wrong, although the girl started to feel like something was wrong, like something was missing, she couldn't place what that feeling was for. Everyone by now forgot the boy exists, well almost everyone. The young boy remembers everything but he won't tell anyone what he knows.

While they were all eating in the dining area the young boy excused himself from the table.

"I have some important business to attend to."

He exclaimed while walking out of the room. He made his way down the hallway under the stairs. He opened up the door, quickly checked if no one followed him, before stepping inside locking the door right behind him. Walking over to his desk he pulled out a different key. He glanced at the pocket watch he pulled out it read

"11:52 am, I'm somewhat on time" he mumbled to himself.

He shoved the heavy desk to the side and revealed a big painting. He hovers the key over the big painting which opened up a hidden door pushing the key in the now visible keyhole it open up. Upon first look it had stairs going down that looked like they went down for forever.

When he finally arrived downstairs he was greeted by rows of glass boxes. Almost every box had a kid inside of it. By the entry door was a small area which had a desk and a board on the wall above it that was filled with clipboards. Each clipboard had a name written on it that corresponds to the kid in the box. He looked for the name of the kid from the recent family that arrived and went to his box. On his way there he put on a white robe to blend in.

Walking up to the glass box of the little boy he tapped the glass to get his attention. He scribbled something on his clipboard and held it up to make sure the kid could see it.

"THEY WILL never FIND YOU. I'll  make sure of it."

Once the little boy read it all he erased it pressing so hard it ripped the paper apart. He stepped back to blend in with the rest again. The young boy whispered "4736251" To one of the people next to him. Before he went back up again.

The little boy woke up earlier than his usual time. He immediately looked under his bed and scratched in a new line to remember a new day has started. He got up and got himself ready to be looked at again.

Today was different though he saw a familiar face in the crowd of white robes. He saw the young boy's face come even closer to his box. His facial expression was hopeful but changed very quickly as he read what was on the clipboard. He collapsed onto the floor, all the white robed people started to write down frantically in their clipboards. The boy looked up with pain in his eyes.

"Stop writing about me!" He repeatedly said this sentence.

He saw the young boy lean in to whisper something to the one next to them, and shortly after the white robed people left. The little boy calmed himself down again and sat down on his bed.