Freedom Comes: At a Price

Prologue 1

I was taking a huge risk. The icy wind that was piercing my face was immobilizing. The wind was unforgiving; driving my dirt-covered, blonde hair back, leaving it to flow freely underneath my cap, all the while freezing my face so consistently that, if I had frostbite instead, it would've surely felt healthier than this torture.

It was all worth it though. Worth risking my life; my friends' and families' lives. It is worth risking it all to get out of this hell-hole. The hope that propelled the pilgrims to keep searching, to the bitter end, until they reached their goal almost five-hundred years ago encouraged me to keep on my journey; no matter what the consequences were if I was caught.

As I skated along the deserted highway, the night sky was as dark and imposing as ever and I gazed up at it as I skated. If I were to die right now, I'd die happy; finally free of all of the troubles of daily life and the military. Free of my family and friends with their empty reassurances of a better life and a brighter future. I'd die gazing at the sky, at the beautiful eternal abyss, wondering if there were more people like me who were sick and tired of the life that we have all been forced to live. The life in which is now considered normal.

The sound of a bullet breaking through the sound barrier was paralyzing. It was one of the loudest effects that I've ever heard before in my short 19 years and when the bullet connected with my unsteady and, as some people refer to it, "hazardous", skateboard, I knew I was in trouble as I lost myself and began flying through the air; regretting every decision that I've made regarding my escape plan.

As I fell, the ground rushing to meet me, the impact that was rushing towards me at a very high speed seemed inevitable and incredibly painful. The sensation of falling may have been bad, but finally hitting the ground was the worst thing that you could ever imagine. I could feel each specific bone in my nose breaking, cracking and bending with remarkable ease, before the blood rushed out to meet the concrete road and then, a few micro-seconds later, my jaw connecting with a huge and unimaginable force, making my jaw dislocate, and then break, on impact.

However, once my jaw was broken it did make a good cushion for the rest of my head and body. Since my jaw caused me to, ultimately, stay grounded, it did, however, sacrifice many layers of skin, from my face and neck, as well as chest, for the well being of the rest of my body.

As I laid there, blood pouring out of some of the many cuts and openings in my neck, face and body, I was forced to suffer, forced to feel every single wound that was conflicted to me by some chance encounter with a complete stranger. I felt as the tiniest pieces of rock and dirt infiltrate my body and started to dig into my wounds. I knew I wouldn't be able to move, even if I really wanted, and to be honest, I didn't; at all. If I moved, whoever shot at me would've known that I was still alive and that they'd be forced to come and finish me off.

I cough. The blood, my blood, was sliding down my throat, thick and relentless. Forget about the faggot who shot me; I'd surely choke on my own blood before whoever it was got the chance.

As I lay there, staring up at the sky, at the stars and moon, I began to see spots. I reach over to grip my Chicago-Bulls cap off the floor, now covered in even more dirt and some of my own blood, and I clutch it tightly to my chest. Without letting my gaze drop from the stars, with their infinite beauty and eternal mystery, my world begins to turn black.

The sky was claiming me. Embracing me. As I completely surrender myself to the will of fate, I see my family; the ones that matter. My best friend, my sister, my mum and my girlfriend. They were all waiting for me. We've been apart for too long.

I will be with them soon. I embrace them; join them. I'm finally home.