My hair was wet with sweat and sweat was dripping down my back. My fists hurt from being clenched for so long. There were pains in the back of my knees and my heart was beating like a drum. I felt as if I was suffocating, and my breaths were heavy. There was a cramp in my side and my back ached. So did my shoulders and joints. Everything hurt. I had been training for six hours straight, in preparation to meet my new trainer. I wanted to make a good first impression.

The woman, whose name I found to be India but who's name I wasn't supposed to know, said that the trainer was a hard one. He had a ton of military training and had fought in many battles. So I trained. Trained hard.

As I trained I thought. Who was I? Yes my name was Thirteen but what was I like as a person? Who was the boy she mentioned, Dominic was it? I wanted answers badly. My hunger for knowledge was overwhelming. I needed those answers as much as I needed air to breathe.

The emptiness that came from the answers I asked myself, made me feel hollow. I needed to know who I was. But I had a feeling that India had no intentions to give to me. She wasn't only letting little bits of information slip, nothing that would cause an impact. Nothing that would quench my hunger for knowledge. My need for answers. What's the point of living of without knowing who you are?

I tried to push those thoughts away, punching the punching bag harder and harder, until it flew off and hit the wall. I sighed in frustration, knowing that I had to get another one now.

I took off my boxing gloves and left them on a table in the room. I would be back soon. I pushed open the door, and walked off to find a new punching bag. A stronger one this time.

Before I went to the gym, I decided to wander a bit, to get to know the facility better. I knew I wasn't allowed everywhere, and India was tracking my every move, so I had to be careful. I had been meaning to do this for a while now, and I'd just been waiting for the right moment to do so.

I went to the bedrooms first, deciding that there might be something there that could help me with my lost memories. I went around peeking into some of them, but nothing was familiar in anyway. I gave up before the last three bedrooms, thinking that they would have the same results as the others.

After giving up and on the bedrooms, I didn't have any idea where to go. They seemed like the only possible place that I could stayed, and left something there. I just strolled around, getting more and more lost, going deeper and deeper into the building.

The thoughts that I didn't want to think came raging back into my head. I tried to get rid of them but they wouldn't leave , banging around my head, making my palms sweat, making my heart hammer in my chest.

Did I have a family? If so, what were they like? Who were my friends? Did I even have friends? Millions of questions spun around my head, and as those questions flew through my head, I lost track of where I was going.

I somehow found myself in front of a small grey door with the number 37 on it. The most prominent feature was the red 'Keep Out' sign with the 'Keep Out' in capital letters.

I felt a small buzzing in my brain as I approached the door, but I ignored it. My hand reached out for the handle. As my hand clasped the handle , memories flashed through my brain, making me feel dizzy. And there was a large pain in my head, possibly from the tracker, and that pain began to feel electric. I stepped back from the door and the memories disappeared as fast as they'd appeared. I turned away from the door, my curiosity burning. But the pain in my head was agonising and I got the hint.

I walked towards the gym, and looked for the item I needed. As I sat waiting, I spotted a blond boy outside. He was about 6"6', and had chalk-white skin with ruffled up hair, messy yet attractive. His mouth was set in a hard line. His eyes were hard and icy-blue, almost silver. He seemed familiar somehow, but my brain couldn't make a connection.

I stared at him for a while, trying to remember where I'd seen him. He turned and looked at me, shock flitting across his face for less than a millisecond, so quick I just about caught it. Then his face returned to its previous expression, as if he'd remembered something. His eyes were colder though, like ice chips. He turned and walked away.

I stared at his back, wondering what had triggered a reaction like that. I wondered if we were enemies or friends, his expression suggesting one of the previous. It was clear that we weren't acquaintances, he showed to much familiarity.

As he walked off, though his lips didn't appear to have moved, I heard him say to himself,"Annabel, what have they done to you?"

I suppose I'll dedicate this chapter to mistywonders because she keeps on telling me how awesome this book is and I want to thank her for boosting my confidence.