Utopia in Captivity

November 20, 2009
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We were hidden among the leaves. Our clothes were tattered, and feet bare. The ground had still been damp from the rainfall the night before. So the sounds of the insects that dominated most of the land filled the air. Our clan traveled in groups, so that none of us would have to face the unfortune of being split up. The same trail that always had been accustomed to me in the days of my youth seemed as if it was withering away. Ever since I was a child I remember following my mother along with the clan out of the seized territory that once called our home. As I began to grow with age, the truth about these vindictive strangers grew rather blurrier than clearer. This was caused by their random attacks on the village. Aggressive strikes that could never have a direct time or place precision, they just came as went.
Bright flashes of scarlet begin to shoot through the trees. I hold on to my daughter’s hand as I conceal her in the shadows of the bushes. I hear voices, yelling of men. We all begin to run faster, our hearts beating in unison. It seems as if we are suffocating, there is nowhere to go. The wings of freedom have been clipped from our backs.
I look to my side. The small hands of my child are gone. I feel large arms engulf me from behind. I hear my daughter scream my name. A thump, and a few slaps, and she is now crying. The men throw her on their backs as they move along through our clan. I scream to them to let her go. They smile, and kick me in my stomach. They take turns, aiming blows at my body until my head starts to throb. My baby’s voices are bells, ringing in my ears.
I didn’t realize that the hits had seized. All I could see were my own mother’s eyes. The silent cry that shone as the moon glared down them. It was the same spot where I knelt down in front of their motionless bodies. The same spot where I begged them to stop, begged them to let us be.
But as I stood there, looking the possibility of death in my eyes I began to grasp information that had been closed to me in the beginning. The reason my mother never told me about these merciless people. They ask me why I am smiling at them, if the pain that they bestowed on me wasn’t enough. I don’t answer, as I force myself to stand. More soldiers surround us, and it seems like we are outnumbered. It doesn’t bother me though because I know that beyond this world there is a better place. Where there is no suffering. I take the armory belt off the soldier. The bayonet glimmers in my hands. Through the columns of our people I run and take my daughter off the back of the soldier.
Curses fly through my teeth as I raise the bayonet closer to my chest. I whisper in her ears as I slowly thrust the knife into her heart. Aware of what I have done, I jab the knife more rapidly through my own.
The utopia is out there waiting for those who have enough courage to behold it. But reaching it without having to cope with this pain was more to my liking.

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thepreechyteenager said...
Aug. 27, 2010 at 8:16 pm

Wow.  This was a spectacular story, and the encing was very unexpected.  I loved you line: "The wings of freedom have been clipped from our backs" It was very powerful.  I was a little confused by you line "As I began to grow with age" because it seemed a little repetitive.  I also though this line was a little mis-worded, "Aggressine strikes that could never have a direct time or place of precision, they just came as went." <-- did you mean "came and went."?

Any... (more »)

BrittanyM. replied...
Aug. 29, 2010 at 4:54 pm

I'm glad you enjoyed it! This was a homework assignment actuely so im sorry for any grammer mistakes since it was so long to type!

As for the line "As I began to grow with age"...I'm not quite sure how it struck as repetitve...Did you mean I was refering to the narrator's youth a little to much? Or was it the flashbacks? 


thepreechyteenager replied...
Aug. 29, 2010 at 5:06 pm
The line wasn't really repetitive, that was the wrong word to use, I don't know why I wrote that.  I ment to say that I though the meanings of the words confused me a little.  "Grow" can mean to like, get taller, or become wiser, and I wasn't sure at first which meaning you intended.  I thought maybe if you swapped "mature" with "grow" it would be more clear that you were talking about the character groeing in their mind, rather that like, in height.
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