Freedom

When I think about being free, I think about being free from bondage, oppression, and control. I think about people who insist that their freedom is more important than others. Let me tell you about a time my uncle and I escaped from a time of persecution and oppression.

When I was twelve years old, my uncle and I were taken from our old home in Arkansas. We were taken and forced to work as slaves in a slave facility. This slave facility was beyond cruel and brutal. They took people that exhibited, what they called, "Special Mental Capability" and experimented on them while attempting to break their minds and spirit. These experiments included being attached to machines that read brain activity. Then, they were made to attempt various psychic activities. If they succeeded, they were given extra rations. If not, well, let's just say they experienced more pain than they could handle.

People are afraid of what they don't understand. That's why they put "labels" on everyone. That's what they were trying to do with those experiments. I had heard of different types of "Special Mental Capabilities, or SMeCs." Some had the ability to heal, others could read minds, and others could move objects with their mind. While each of these abilities seems useful, the powers-at-be would make these people use them for their own selfish desires. If they refused, or tried to use their abilities to escape, they were treated harshly and imprisoned in a special room. This special room was designed to prevent SMeCs from using their abilities.

I remember the screams of bloody murder from those that were treated harshly. The whip that the guards used was made of a long segment of electrified razor wire. Of course it would've been counterproductive to have the SMeC die, so a healer was forced to heal the victim to the point they could heal themselves. The SMeCs that could read minds were forced to provide surveillance and to gather as much intelligence on the rest of us as they could. The SMeCs that could move things with their mind were forced to become human weapons. I heard rumors of SMeCs that possessed other abilities as well.

Every night that I'm able to sleep, I dream about how life was back in Arkansas. My uncle was exceptionally hardworking, but more than that, he was also extremely compassionate toward those in need. I admired him and aspired to be just like him. One day, when we were out doing some yard work, I heard the sound of a crackling fire. "What's going on?" I thought as I looked around for the fire. "I don't smell smoke." I suddenly noticed the giant tree that stood by the road was leaning precariously close to a car that looked like it had broken down. "Oh my," I thought, "There are people in that car." I was just about to yell for help when I noticed the tree had suddenly been made to bend away from the car and to crash down in the open field. I looked in amazement as my uncle ran toward the people trapped in the car. Luckily, no one was hurt, but the people in the car were very grateful for what had happened. Later that night, I asked my uncle what had happened to the tree bending that way. He just replied that it was a gift that he has had since he was a teenager. "Do I have that gift too?" He looked at me with a smile on his face. "I don't know, but I've seen how compassionate you are at times. If you have the gift, it will manifest eventually."

I awoke to the ghastly sound of a SMeC screaming in pain. My wonder quickly turned to horror when I realized the SMeC in pain was my uncle. Two guards were taking their turn whipping him because he had apparently refused his turn on the brain-reading machine. I got up and approached the guards. "Leave him alone. Can't you see he's injured beyond the ability to move?" One of the guards turned to me and scoffed. "We'll have one of the healer-freaks heal him when we're through with him. For now, be a good boy and get back to work, unless you want the same treatment."

Hatred began to boil within my veins as I defiantly prepared for a fight. "I'll take it gladly." Both of the guards had an incredulous look on their faces and then broke into boisterous laughter. "You have got to be the most dumbest kid alive. Don't you know what you're up against?" I replied, "Do you?" Suddenly, one of the guards flicked his whip and started to approach me. In a fit of rage, I swiped both hands through the air in a sort of "stop-it" gesture. Both guards ended up flying backward and into a wall with enough force to render them unconscious. Feeling the handle of the whips in my mind, I stretched my hands out and brought each one to them.

The noise caused by the guards' bodies hitting the wall resulted in more guards appearing to see what was happening. I quickly flicked the whips and gave them a taste of their own medicine. Seeing me in action seemed to inspire the other SMeCs to revolt. I saw that the other SMeCs working together had the situation under control and decided to go check on my uncle.

I approached my uncle and realized his injuries were not that serious. He had multiple lacerations and burns across his chest and back. Luckily, most of the lacerations had been cauterized, so he wasn't losing a lot of blood, but he still looked like he was in a lot of pain. "Uncle, uncle, can you hear me?" My uncle grunted and slowly opened his eyes. "What happened to the guards?" He asked while wincing with pain. "I took care of them." I gestured with my hands to illustrate more clearly. "Can you stand? We need to get out of here." He tried to rise up, but his strength gave out. "It's too painful. You go on and live a happy life. Don't risk your life for me." "You're coming with me, Uncle. I'm not going to leave you in this hellhole." I suddenly felt a surge of compassion for my uncle's healing. I placed my hands on his injuries one-by-one and focused on making them my own. The pain was intense, but surprisingly bearable. Once my uncle was completely healed, he hopped to his feet like a spring chicken. "It looks like you have a greater gift than mine, Thank you." I replied, "Anytime, Uncle. Now, let's get out of here."

When we were finally outside the facility, I felt relief to feel the sun on my face and to breath the fresh air of the mountains. My uncle put a hand on my shoulder and reminded me of how compassionate I was. "I learned it from you, Uncle. I just couldn't bear to see you in pain." My uncle replied, "Well, I'm glad you did. Let's go home." As I proceeded to walk with my uncle, I took one more look at the facility and thought, "I'm free." THE END