Chasing Liberty

I stare up at the leaking ceiling, watching snowflakes drift down from the rafters. My bedroom was in the attic. It was dark and cold, but I liked it. It was hidden away, sometimes it almost felt like a world away. I know it was meant as a sort of punishment being up here. They wanted me to feel left out, unwanted. It did hurt once, but after enough time has passed of feeling unwanted. You find that you get numb to it. It becomes the normal and you realize you just are unaffected by the abuse anymore. But this wasn’t the time to think about that. This was the time to make a plan. A plan to make a better life in a world of hell. I refuse to be a useless bystander in the face of pure injustice any longer. If I wanted change I had to make that change for myself first. I couldn’t rally people together to find out I couldn’t do this.Firstly, I needed to get out this house, my parents would take any opportunity to destroy anything I created. They wouldn’t be able to bare seeing me doing be

So far, my search for a match maker had been extremely un fruitful. I haven’t found a thing, whoever was hiding them was doing a good job. I had to admit; it had crossed my mind that that lady may have been insane. Maybe they didn’t exist, I had to look within the city. If word got out, I was looking in town I would be turned in before I could blink. I had one lead left to follow up today. After that I had exhausted all the leads I had thought of. I look a sharp turn, down a small and gloomy ally way. Right on the edge of the city, near a small port was a tiny little wooden shack. This part of the city looked abandoned, before my search I had no idea how many parts of the city had just been forgotten. The bustling centre looked like a fairy tale. Which boggled my mind a little, why were the outskirts of the city so derelict. It didn’t make much sense, was it to help hide the dodgy dealings of the city? Or was the city not doing as well as it made out? Or were these parts just no longe

Several months had passed since the forest incident, life had just kind of slowed since then. It felt amazing but also put me on edge. On one hand, living alone, going to work then just plodding along with my garden was nice. My life felt stable and simple. My little safe haven felt a world away from realty. However how quiet everything was after the bomb shell I discovered. Was extremely concerning. I looked for a month for any signs of the gifted children. I found nothing, no signs of any movement or life in any of the areas I flagged. It had begun to send me a little mad before I took a break from it all. I couldn’t help but feel I dreamt the whole thing. I searched through everything I could find and turned up nothing. I got no visions there. There was not the slightest inkling of proof of any of the things I thought I heard. So, I had taken a step back.I had harvested my first crop and had plenty of fresh food for a few weeks. I had made jars and jars of tomato sauces, stored a

There I was once again in a dark room, listening to the fight going on outside. I cover my ears, willing myself to close it out. To be anywhere but here again. It had been a few years since I had been locked in my own mind. Everywhere I turned was a new memory, a new trauma. I remember as a child, everyone would talk about hell. How it’s a place bad people where sent. A place far away from earth, a place you could only be sent to by god. But as I grew, I came to learn, hell wasn’t a mythical place. Hell was right here, it lived among us. It lived right under our noses, it lived in the darkest places of the human mind. The places we wanted to pretend didn’t exist. Hell was man made.We want to believe evil is achieved by an outside source. Because we don’t want to admit the darkness that hides within people. Because if it lives within one, it can live within another, and if within another, it can live within you. If darkness can hide so easily within us, how do we know who is evil and

I hadn’t left my house in days. I didn’t know how I felt about anything anymore. I had so much to take in and digest. My path had been made up for me. There was no backing out now. I had always had the option to stop at any time before this. My life would never go back to how it was. I had changed, I could not put back the life I had taken. How do you forget the day you became a murder? I was scared, I felt cornered. Like the fate of everyone sat on my weak shoulders. I couldn’t stop thinking about those other people. Should I have tried to save them? Maybe I could have saved everyone. I know it’s easy to think that, after the fact. I know a part of me, knows I had no choices my hands were tied. But part of me, can’t let go. Can’t let go of the what’s ifs.I took comfort in the thought, that this was nothing more than a delusional dream. A dream I wanted to make true. But one I could stop without hurting anyone. Now if I stopped, multiple people would be dying. Could I live with that