The Search for Freedom

Lil

It was a sunny day. I occasionally visit our farm or the market to help my parents with their work. I wasn't a hard-working boy; I was only doing the things I could and wanted to do. Why should I do something I couldn't? Especially if there was no good reason for doing it?

The life of a sixteen-year-old boy like me was so monotonous. From Monday to Friday, I walked back and forth between home and school. Sometimes, I frown and shrug while sitting on the bench, looking at the blue sky, wondering when I could ride my silver plane and go anywhere around the planet.

Change was inevitable. Everything might change. My dreams, my appearance and identity, my learning, preferences, my beliefs, and many other things had changed. If in the past, I let someone bully me, then I would never let them do that again. I didn't believe in magic, but without doubt, it existed. Teacher Jayne was right: "You would only believe in something if you had experienced it."

I took the road to the farm where my father worked. I knew he needed someone's help with planting crops, and that was why I decided to go there. I was looking at the green plants creeping up the tall wall beside the street, counting every step I took. People were in deep slumber, and I could hear everything singing a lullaby.

As I walked on, there were two women ahead who seemed to be fighting. I went near and observed, to know why they were fighting in the center of the road. They were both wearing fancy dresses. They might be from a party. I got nearer, but they had not noticed me.

"I have trusted you my whole life, because you were my best friend, but what did you do? He was already my husband, but you stole him from me! How could you do that?" She asked in a crying manner.

"I'm sorry sis, but it wasn't my mistake if that man fell in love with me. It was your mistake that you didn't watch your husband, and maybe he was searching for a woman who's more beautiful, sexy, and excels at bed," the other woman responded.

"How dare you brag about yourself in front of me? And you appear brave, even though you're the one who hurt me?"

"I'm just telling the truth, you're already wide. That's why he searched for a woman like me-who's young and outbidding."

"What a scamp! I know you were the one seducing my husband, and he wouldn't go with you unless you flirted with him!" the victim exclaimed.

While watching the two women, there was a strong force that pushed me towards them. It was so strong that I could not fight against it. I dashed off and emerged between them, and they both confusedly looked at me. They were about to say a word when, suddenly, I punched their faces with my two fists. I didn't know why, but it wasn't me. It was my hands, which seemed to have their own brains. I couldn't control them anymore.

My fists would not stop punching the two pitiable women. They tried to fight me, but because I was too strong, or my arms were so strong, they could do nothing. even though there were two people trying to stop me. They had many bruises on their faces. In a few moments, they both lost consciousness; they collapsed on the concrete road with bended legs, just like in a movie I had watched on our neighbor's television. I didn't know if they were still alive, but my fists decided to stop, and then I felt like I could control them again.

I was hazed, confused, worried and full of regret about what I did. I grasped my hair, and my tears dripped down when I realized they were dead! It was all my fault. Why were those things happening to me?

"I did not mean it! I did not mean it!" I screamed while running towards the place where my father was working. I didn't want to be imprisoned, was the word that crossed my brain next. If they knew I was the one who murdered those women, they would surely throw me in jail!

I still had many dreams in life, and I didn't want to waste many years in jail. I hoped that no one saw the crime I committed; otherwise I didn't know what would happen to me. I wiped my tears with my clothes and continued walking towards my father. I pretended that I didn't do anything wrong, but in my brain the sin I had committed was reigning.

My father was planting crops. He was wearing a pointed hat, ragged clothes, and boots that he had worn every time he went to our farm for many years. I could see the sweat that had evaporated on his face and neck. My father had been removing the weeds there, so that the growth of the crops wouldn't be affected.Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

I noticed I was full of sweat. It seemed that I had just taken a bath, and I could see the shape of my body in my bluish shirt. I was running fast a while ago, thinking that there was someone chasing me and wanting to kill me, like what I did to those women.

"Oh! Son. What are you doing here?" My father noticed me.

"I came to help you plant the crops." I replied, and feigned a smile.

"Are you sure?" He asked. "Well, that's a good idea, so that we can finish our work fast and go home early."

Sometimes my father didn't want me to reply to his questions. I didn't know why, but he was always adding his words after asking. He didn't want me to interject him. He knew what I wanted to say, so I needed to be careful, or else he would know my sin. He was so strict, and he might be the one to throw me in jail if he found out I'd killed someone.

"Did you dry yourself after taking a bath?" My father asked in a dubious manner. "If you can't endure the sunlight, you may go back home now."

"No. I simply forgot to dry myself before leaving the house," I lied.

I knew he doubted me, because we both knew our farm was far from our house and it was impossible that the water would still be on my body if I just walked from home to go there.

My father's investigator version had shown up again when he asked, "Did you do something wrong that you were full of sweat and seemed to have been running from our house towards here?"