With
power and might, love and attraction, the vein of desire endangers the minds of
adolescents. Law two hundred and fourteen requires all female teenagers on
their thirteenth birthday to undergo a surgical operation, in which that
inhumane vein will be removed and chemically destroyed. Miranda Fay‘s
appointment has not been scheduled yet, it is mandatory that the legal
guardian(s) of this child get in contact with our office immediately.
~Berra of the San Jose Providence
As if I was reborn for a second time, my world was
shaken. My brain was malfunctioning. All of a sudden the right hemisphere of my
brain did not connect with the left side of my body, and the left hemisphere
had no control over the right side of my body. I was a piece of human trash; I
oozed out foul slime and was worthless. It was as if I was kicked to the edge
of the sidewalk, for I was unwanted, waiting to be recycled. Stray cars could
drive past and not notice me; I was just an ordinary person being conformed
into a lifestyle of dull and boringness, never to love nor meet the man of my
dreams.
If I must live my life without my vein of desire, I shall
live without a heart. Being a walking zombie of the government, makes my
quality of life pitiful.
For sale, female heart, mid condition.
Their desire: what the corrupt government wants is my
heart. Their mission: confiscate it, late at night. Their plan or grand scheme:
kidnap me, steal my heart, and hide all evidence.
As if the letter was made out of granite it was too
powerful and strong to be altered. The government held the highest rankings
amongst the land; whatever they said was carved into grave stones. The
consequence of death would be for anyone who disobeyed. These unreasonable
rules and statutes are endless; they never expire or get revised.
Girls, we have all the problems, we physically have to
mature and deal with our “issues”. For once in my life I am displeased with
myself. All of my wants and needs are becoming sidetracked; my mental and
emotional health is non-existent. I do not wish to be cut apart by strangers. I
wish I was a boy. A boy with long golden locks of curly hair, sparkling blue
eyes like the ocean itself, and a smile that showed dimples. Then and only then
would I be able to fit into the genuine race; if only I was a boy. I would be seen as perfect and have no flaws;
I would be an angel, a gift from heaven. Most importantly I would be saved and
my body and mind would not be touched nor harmed. I want to live a simple life
and as a boy I could grow up without worries and fears.
I run into the deteriorated mud hovel that serves as our
house seeking comfort. Like the typical
weekday, I am alone, so I peacefully settle myself in a tiny corner where I
could practice my beliefs. With religion being banned and the death sentence
applied to anyone caught in practice, I triple checked to make sure I was
completely alone.
Dear Christ, I have
you and only you to turn to for help. I pray to you in hope that my prayers
will be answered. I do not understand why I should be forced into an operation
in which I do not believe. I wish a miracle would come amongst us, lightning
could strike the grave stones, and turn it into unrecognizable rubble. Raging
fires would force re-birth and innocent lives would be saved. You tell us you
want us to believe and share your word, but how can I? I want to have eternal
life and live in your presence in heaven. Can you take me now, before my heart
gets punctured with knifes and stakes? I want to live the life you created me
to live. Living without my heart will just lead me to Satan. I want to love and
have children and teach them of your greatness. These are your wishes too; it
says that in the Holy Bible. I need your guidance, God; anything would help, please,
give me a sign. Amen
I awakened to the sound of pitter patter against the
pathetic roof. Acid raindrops burn my forehead since the ceiling is mostly
eroded away. Once a heavy ceiling with shingles appeared over my head, now the
layer of hardened mud the thickness of a piece of paper, is my only protection
against Mother Nature.
All the riches in the land had vanished after the
revolution. With countless lives lost, the major population decrease was not
the only change. As a new government rose, our rights were stripped away,
property was no longer considered a possession, and conditions of living became
very poor.
When the sun was setting below the horizon and the
nightingales were singing their evening songs, my dearest parents had not
returned home yet. Their absentness had been molded into my daily routine. It
was getting late, as the crescent moon made its way to the center of the sky,
screams, shouts, and wails could be heard from farms nearby. Soon the dirt road
was crowded with anxious people looking into the far distance. The evening
stars were covered by a murky smoke that expanded every millisecond. A heavy
black smoke, polluted the providence, it was a suffocating blanket.
A super volcano eruption was overdue, the fierce lava
raced down its cone shaped edges incinerating people alive. This bright
red-orange liquid cleared paths instantly. When I turned my head away for the
slightest moment, the rush of death was already across border and was now
invading a new land.
The eruption continued constantly throughout the night.
From the cracks in the walls surrounding my bug invested cot, I could vividly
see the mountain top belching up chunks of fire. Maybe this could be my sign
that I was awaiting, I thought to myself. However I could not believe it, I
wanted to believe an angel would come to me in my sleep; and answer all my
questions and guide me out of confusion. Even though it was almost impossible
to sleep, I tried to doze off and enter into my world of the unconscious.
As I was asleep, a banging on my door startled and awakened
me. Half asleep I got out of bed to answer what seemed to be a hungry grizzly
bear batting at its prey. Guards shining bright flashlights blinded me as they
stepped into my home, without invitation. They were disgusting, like pigs, they
tracked mud all across the pale floor. One of the fatter men spat his remains
of chewing tobacco upon my foot. As I stepped back my ear drums shattered, “You
were not ordered to move!” Frozen in
fear, I could feel my heart throbbing, beating uncontrollably five extra beats
per second. Feeling faint, I stumbled over to the corner to take a seat.
Before I was able to reach the floor I had spoken out of
place. “Ouch!” “You were not ordered to
move. Once I gave you a warning. Now I give you another warning plus a beating!”
Painfully I stood up, not wishing to have the leather
belt re-connect to my now bruised and bleeding back. Scanning my perimeter from
my peripheral vision I saw the big, fat guard making his way towards me.
Violently my arms were yanked behind my back; rope was
tied so tightly around my wrists, it was as if a snake was coiling them.
Without warning I was swept off my feet and forcefully taken from the comfort
of my one room shack and I was dropped into a dark metal van. I landed on my
knee which split open and blood gushed out.
Inside I had to feel my way around, since it was pitch
black inside. There was no warmth inside; I was surrounded by cold hearts and
dead souls.
All of a sudden I started choking; coughing and then
everything went blank. My senses were not shut down though; my body may have
been immobilized, but my mind was working overtime. The last thing I felt was a
stabbing pain through my chest, the unimaginable pain forced my body into
shock. Then everything drifted off, everything went away, that moment became
life changing.
When I woke up from my deep sleep, I thought to myself
what if my whole life was a dream. What if all the short clips that played
across my mind were all linked together?
What if I was a dragon slayer, tattoo designer, acrobatic and had
unknown talents emerging in multiple fields? Then my dreams would be reality!
More importantly, what just happened to me might not have occurred. Consumed in
my thoughts, I fell back into a state of sleep and thought, did that operation
just happen, or was it all just a figment of my imagination. Then again, I
could feel the indentations as I ran my fingers over all the scars, and the
truth to the abuse became clear. Not only was I the punch line to a cruel joke,
the government could now put a check mark next to my name and say, ‘mission
complete’.
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