Beta Gluesaro

The terrible skin disease, Volervus, ravages the skin of all infected, killing the tainted without hope of a cure. It begins in the skin, rotting it’s way through, then it begins to decompose the organs. It has been known as a gruesome, painful, and slow death. The children slave-workers of the rich, energy producing company of Beta Gluesaro are the only known infected, and the illness has set a sure death sentence on them all.
Beta Gluesaro has discovered a ground breaking way of creating energy. Unfortunately, in order to produce the energy it depletes and burns the deadly mineral source Quadrintine. And as the substance is burnt it not only produces energy but the lethal virus that causes Volervus. The invisible germ settles onto the child workers and dissolves into their bodies. And once in, it is irrevocable. The rotting patches of brown flesh slowly expanding throughout the body are the constant reminder of their impending death. And they can’t be helped.
Nor is help attempted. The children work there purposely. The common thought and theory is that children are dispensable, and the president of Beta Gluesaro used this perverted concept to harvest the children abandoned at orphanages in masses, a set price on each worker. And yearly this cycle continues and it is either unknown by the public or thought as the price to pay for the precious energy that they enjoy.
This same fate as a child worker has now captured me. If I ever had parents I was unaware of it. For all my life here at Helenmeyer Orphanage I knew that I would never leave or find a foster family and that my life would continue to slowly stumble forward into a continual gray shadow with no escape. My mind and body must have accepted this long before my sixth birthday when I first saw the two men in black tuxedos enter through the huge, arched mahogany doorway of Helenmeyer wearing the laminated blue badges baring the title “Beta Gluesaro” on the top of the simple plastic card. I was foolish than to think that my life would be gray.
I recognized that name easily as the worlds number one energy producer. They were almost like a legend around here in the city of Xervux, and our town proudly declared that it is here where the company stands. A large, black rectangular van was parked outside on the silent streets. No one ever had any business on this street and only occasionally was the hum of vehicles heard.
One of the men pulled out a lump of paper money out of his long sleeve and tied it with a band, whispering something into the orphanage curator’s ear. The old women nodded, and the men walked past her. That was when I, and all the other orphans at the age of six, were summoned to the street curb. We walked out without question, silent and docile, and entered the opened hitch doors at the back of the van at the men’s forceful request.
And I can’t say I recall seeing daylight for the next year.