The Priest And The Demon

Chapter 1

free·dom/ˈfrēdəm/

Noun

  --the state of not being imprisoned or enslaved.  

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I didn't know what had happened that certain day when they locked us—the children and I— under the orphanage for a month. They wouldn't let us see the light of day for all that time. Then when we came back out, something had been different—not about the place, but the outside. The sky had darkened and the birds didn't sing at all. Our eyes had adjusted early and that had been what we'd seen.

Foi, my best friend at that place, wasn't present. She had been on a trip to the fifth quadrant and had never returned. I never heard what had happened to her.

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I sat alone in the orphanage for many years. Six years to be exact. The caregivers were nice, but I didn't want their help. I was going to survive here no matter what it took. I had little friends, which I was fine with. The children here were treated like animals, and they were still happy. If had nowhere else to go, I would be happy too.

But I could leave.

The orphanage itself was a mess. There was dust in the air, mud and more dust on the floors, and the lingering smell of death. Many children died every day, and more children were brought here. It seems like every time a child dies, one has arrived, but only to accept the same fate as the others. I have stayed and, as the care workers say, have a strong will to live. I don't believe what I do is a will to live. I sit in the same corner every day, while the other children play in this hell hole, planning my escape.

I will get out of here, no matter what it takes.

Mama brought me here a long time ago. It was a nice day with the blue sky shining. The moon had shown in the sky in the middle of the afternoon. I had watched the moon float in the sky as we walked here. Mama had told me that this place was nice -in living quarters-and kind-the caregivers. She said that I can make so many friends here and I can be happy. She never told me why I was going here. Mama held my hand with a single tear on her face. I hadn't done anything I thought was wrong. Nothing that I could remember was wrong to me. Her hand squeezed mine when she saw the black gates approach.

I didn't think a thing about it. Today was a nice day and we were going on a walk; something we never did. I was actually happy.

I have only tried to leave once, and I promised to never try it again with my fingers crossed behind my back. The snow has now cloaked the town, leaving everything in a white darkness.

I stood outside waiting for the other children to come back from their school lesson in the small shed in the courtyard. The school house was only a shed with one window on the north side, a thatch roof, and worn out wood for walls.

The little brats were so loud when they came out from their lesson. It made my ears ring and my temples pound some days-- which is why I don't go to school here. 

As the snow begins to fall once more, I reach my hand out to catch some. It is cold, and I feel lonely once again. I am alone. I have been alone almost my entire life. Stumbling through what lies before me. I have stumbled, but never fallen. My green eyes darted from the shed to the sky. My eyes met a cold breeze that blew through the trees around me which swirled my brown hair.

The familiar cry of a cardinal signals my escape. No one out here to watch me leave. No one here to see me cry tears of determination as I run. For the first time in weeks; I smiled. My feet set in a quick pace as fresh carbon dioxide tears off my lips.