Call Of Freedom

꧁Friends and Enemies꧂

Everything feels different when you share it with someone. I get to discover the forest for the second time when Zion is by my side. His hesitance keeps me alert while his amazement reminds me of the beauty I'm surrounded with.

We don't talk. We can't afford to break the silence for that might cost us our life. Inside the forest, any murmur can reach a patrolman's ear, any wrongdoing can lead us to their traps. He pokes my arm each time he has a question for me and I must admit, that's quite often. I kneel so he can whisper sentences into my ear that I pretend to understand.

"Where are we going?"

"To a secret spot. I have to take a box."

"Oh, okay."

I refuse to acknowledge any other of his pokes, but it turns out that my presence is enough to give him comfort. He caresses his shoulder on mine whenever he stumbles over the woven surface of the ground.

We reach our destination about half an hour later. I look up to make sure that my creation is not visible from underground. Branches from neighboring trees merge together and create a natural web which encircles my home. Looking up at those towering, gentle giants has a way of spinning one's head. Zion steps back, drops his jaw and steps back once more. I place my hand on his shoulder, bringing him closer to the tree trunk.

"Always be cautious inside the forest."

It takes longer to climb up the tree this time. My eyes keep wandering down at Zion's figure, a still dot of black hair that reduces in size. Inside my shelter, I move fast. I tear paintings from the walls and fold them inside the pouch till no other object fits in there. The large box doesn't weigh much, so I push it with my legs towards the opening on the floor. It surrenders to the force of gravity, swirling in the air and hitting branches on its way down. A loud thud reaches my ears and a sudden gasp soon after.

Each year the same routine. I sleep inside the cold until I decide that I have to move back in Area 21. While I do that I fear that by the time spring arrives this place is either going to be destroyed by a patrolman's weapon or by the madness of the winter. Unlike previous years, today I lack the time needed to say goodbye. Yet I'm bound to no fear. This house might be here next summer. The real question is: where will I be?

On my way down, I find Zion staring at the box a few feet further. Faithful as he is, his feet are locked to the ground and refuse to step towards it. With a nod of my head, we get to work. I wrap my fingers around one side of the box and Zion stands opposite me.

"So what's inside?"

"Something that belonged to my mother."

"Oh. Where is your mother?"

Four years later and this is still the hardest question to answer. My mouth refuses to form words that explain the depths of my ignorance.

"I don't know..."

"Oh."

We get buried inside a cocoon that nature creates for us. It is a bubble of shame battling with serenity that the forest offers lavishly. Such a peaceful war is only paused once in a thousand years.

Luck was never one of my allies. A sudden roar of sounds engulfs me, rendering any logical thought inside my brain. Anxious birds abandon trees and branches which later rattle in fear. The mayhem grows louder with the companion of a distant mumbling of words. Patrolmen are here.

Suddenly, I can sense the oxygen flowing in and out of my lungs, never enough, always gasping for more. My eyes shoot a long stare at Zion, frozen in place, white all around his pupils. The distant chatter grows louder, circling closer to us with no obvious source. An alarmed bird races over the box like a shadow that disappears on our left. And with that, I know well to follow it.