The Journey to Freedom: Path to WW3

Chapter II

"To those who abuse: the sin is yours, the crime is yours, and the shame is yours. To those who protect the perpetrators: blaming the victims only masks the evil within, making you as guilty as those who abuse. Stand up for the innocent or go down with the rest." Flora Jessop

After four hits in the back with a two by four, I can only hope that I don't have a broken back or broken ribs, I could have some cracked ribs or maybe severely bruised but I think that's as far as my body can let these bastards go. I may have some broken or fractured ribs but I can't tell from all the pain that I have.

The soldier in charge looks at me and tells his soldiers unchain me and take me back to my room because it looks like I passed out and that they will start again tomorrow to see what information they can get out of me. The soldiers unchain me and I immediately fall to the floor and they grab the chains and drag me to my holding cell and throw me on the floor. I want to crawl to the bed but I just lay on the floor facing the ceiling since I can't feel anything from my neck down.

Man, the least they could've done was at least give me a pain killer. I look out the window and see the stars, I haven't seen the night full of stars since I was captured.

As far back as I can remember, when I was little, my life was full of torment.

Let's start from when I was two years old. I know most people can't remember what they had for breakfast or what they did last week but I had a eidetic memory. When I was two years old I remember my father beating my mother over some food that he didn't want, surely my mother made it for him to eat at work for lunch but I guess it wasn't to his liking and he decided to grab the skillet and hit my mom on the head with it. Some people would become monsters over things like this, or things that have happened to me, but not me, I became a protector for the weak and innocent.

Granted I was no angel myself but sometimes the only way to fight evil is with another kind of evil and my father's abusive behavior made me this way. I am no angel like I said and I am no devil either, but I do fight to protect those that cannot protect themselves. When I turned seven, my sister was born, and I sometimes wondered how this woman can stay with a man that beat her so many times truly defied my logic? She must've really loved my father. When women have kids, not just women but men also, they tend to let themselves go. My parents were no catalog models but they were in shape.

Since my mother had a baby it was the perfect time for him to get out of the house and sneak around. Typical for a macho man to leave his family at home while he seeks a mistress.

My reminiscing is cut short from the screams in the other rooms from people yelling to be let free. I can hear a woman cry and soldiers laugh and cheer on. She yells "no, stay away from me" and cries for someone to help her.

Monsters! I can't and I don't want to imagine what that woman is going through over there. Reminds me of the time when my mom found a phone number in my dad's shirt and when he went missing for a few days. I remember her calling the number and asking for my dad, a woman answers and asks who's speaking...now my mother was no fool.

My mother was very intelligent and she knew how to get around people and situations. I laugh at myself because I know where I get my intelligence from. So she proceeds to tell the woman that she is my dad's sister and their mother is worried about him because he hasn't shown up all weekend and the woman replies.

"Oh, don't worry, he's ok, he's sleeping right now. Tell my future mother in law not to worry, tell her that I'll take good care of him for her" and she hangs up.

I ask my mom where my dad is and she says "he'll be back sweetie, don't worry, your dad is with a friend and is having a sleepover".

Of course I heard everything and I knew what he was doing, some men just couldn't keep it in their pants.

That very same day my dad came home and yelled and beat my mom black and blue. I could only hear my mother yelling to my father to stop and begging for him to stop. I yelled and push the door open and kept hearing my father yelling and beating my mom.

I run to the kitchen and grab a knife and open the door to their room and grab my dad's leg and plead him to stop hurting my mom.

He slaps me and says tells me in spanish, "stay out of this you little shit".

I grab the knife and yell "If you don't stop hitting my mom, I'm going to kill you!"

My mom tells me to put the knife down and my father walks up to me, snatches the knife away and punched me right in the face then kicks me in the stomach.

As soon as I remember the kick in the stomach, I start feeling the pain in my stomach again. The cries of the woman have died out. I wonder if she is ok. I just hear the soldiers cheer and talk amongst themselves.

The tears fall out of my eyes as if someone turned on a water hose. How can anyone be so heartless I wonder to myself? I can feel my strength coming back, so I just crawl and sit up, and lean against the wall and decide to meditate.

I needed to get my strength back up before they decide what to do with me tomorrow. I've been in this hell hole for two days now. I wonder if my people were looking for me. Oh well, time to meditate and hoped that someone was actually looking for me.