Having Faith

1

An alarm rings around the very familiar white room.
There was that dream again. Water forming in my hand. Water forcing the glass open. The glass breaking. Everyone screaming. And a boy. A boy with brown hair smiling. Not screaming. Smiling. Him, holding out his hand. Us, running out of the 'sanctuary'.
But every time in the seventeen years I've lived it is ruined by that idiotic alarm.
"Good morning Faith," The mechanical carer I call Grace calls out to me as I pull off the white sheets revealing my white clothes. Grace isn't a person. She's more of a camera stuck in the wall. A computer, really. But she is the only voice I've heard than my own.
"Morning Grace, remind me again why I always wear white." I pick up a white bowl and a white spoon. My heavy eyes stare at the grainy, white porridge splattering out of the eating station and into the bowl. I pull out the a chair for myself and take a deep breath in through the nose. It's the same smell I smell every breakfast. The steam heats my face making a splash of colour form on my cheeks.
"What are you forgetting?" Grace's voice rings around the room.
"Sorry," I mumble while walking towards the the draw with all the bathroom necessities. Just above it a mirror.
I stare at myself for a little to long and a small shock of electricity flashes up my arm.
"What was that for?" I scream at Grace and another shock runs up my arm.
"Firstly, you mumbled. Secondly, you dawdled and thirdly you screamed at me."
I take another deep breath in to restrain myself from bellowing again. It's all because of the metallic ring around my wrist.
I hate it!
I hate it! I hate it! I hate it!
The annoying thing is I can't help myself. I have to look. My appearance marvels me. Not that I'm vain though. My hair is blue. Not the colour of the sky, nor the colour of the bottom of the seas. It's more of a mix between the two. It's more light than dark, but still dark. To sum it up pretty quickly it's the colour of a light blue pencil. My eyes are the colour of ice though.
As quick as I can I tie my hair in a simple braid at the back of my head, run back and continue eating. Once finished, Grace will order me to work yet again in the other white room behind the main room, so I eat as slow as I can. But I finish faster than normal. My portion must of been reduced. Grace must of though I was exceeding my weight limit.
I walk into the work room and immediately pull on my white sneakers. No dawdling as I learnt earlier. I place one foot on the white treadmill. Then the other. I tap the 'go' button and the rubbery ground beneath me starts to turn. My feet start to run, one step after the other. It goes on for a hour.
Only a hour.
The rest of the day is filled with learning. No break. None at all.
"Faith," Grace's mechanical voice begins. "It's time for my daily check. I trust you will be good?"
"Yes." I lie through my teeth.
The white light of Grace's camera dims until it is no longer visible.
I clear my mind of any other thoughts. Nothing can distract me from this.
I cup my hand and a little puddle of water appears in my hand.
At first I thought this was insanity. But that was six years ago. But now I know it's not. I'm different. I can control water and create it in my hands. Everyday when Grace does her daily check I bring out this power. But I've long mastered what I have discovered.
The water disappears in my hand as I run to the mirror wall and start forcefully hitting it. I step back.
This will never work.
Then a psychotic idea from the very darkest depth of my mind appeared.
An idea that just might work.
I take some steps back and muster all the energy I can. This has to work. It must work.
The water starts to form in my hand. I slowly open my palm. The water rises. I flick my hand towards the mirror. The water smashes against the mirror.
A crack appears.
I continue to throw the water towards the glass.
Finally it broke.
It shatters to the floor.
Out side every person screams in terror.
That boy is out there.
The boy with the brown hair.
And he isn't screaming.
I smile so hard it might reach my ears.
He gestures for me to follow him.
And I do.
We run out of together.
Out of sanctuary.
Out of my home.
Out of what kept the wings of my soul chained down.
Now they're spread.
And I'm soaring.
Soaring out of this horrid place.
Soaring to freedom.