The Cost of Triumph

what will my freedom cost

I could sit in this hard, cold cell and not make an attempt to escape. Being beaten bloody day and night is its own recipe for either triumph or defeat, and you must choose that hard path that lies ahead. I will choose the one that leads to my success. No matter the pain; the suffering and the hurt I will rise above myself and escape.

My face is ice, and my eyes are red as blood. Pain runs throughout my body as the whip pierces my back, those long scars it leaves reminders of the previous lashing and of the ones to come. My time should be over, yet time obviously doesn’t feel as though it has had its fill of my life. I have cried before in the lashings, but I am numb to the tears. The sympathy for myself is no longer there. Only a strong desire to cause revenge and free myself remains in my hate filled mind.

“Drop him,” says the jail keeper and I feel my knees hit the stone ground. I believe they shattered in that moment. I gaze up at the face that has successfully made itself my satin in those long 14 years I have resided here. On the wall the words etched there say “ God will grant me mercy.” I no longer believe that sentence, for it has provided me with nothing. Now what I write is messages of pain, and revenge; Messages that are taking a reality in my mind. The wood door slams shut behind me, and the keys grate in the lock once again. That sound I have heard twice a day for 14 years, and every time it hurts my heart.

It is time for my escape and for my life to resume, for the time spent here is of no consequence. Outside this place of wrath and tears is a hard road to traverse and I will make that journey like a boy on his way into the world, excited and determined. As I think these thoughts, I formulate a quick and impossible plan for escape, definitely not for the faint of heart.

            A hollow knock comes from the door, and a hoarse mans voice comes through the wood. “ Dinners here open up!” He hears no reply, so he opens the door. I lie there on the ground, still as can be. He prods me with his sharp-toed boot, and I force myself to remain limp. The man bends down to feel my pulse, and as he puts his hand to my neck I grab it and pound his head with a rock I had taken from the wall. He sighs slowly and sinks to the ground, knees giving way to his massive torso. I stand up quickly and sprint towards the door. Out I go, and I feel better then I had in years. However, I’m not free yet. I still have to evade guards until I reach the front door, and then I can be relieved of this damp air.

            I run quietly down the gray hallway, which poses no issue for I wear no shoes. A guard is faced away from me, guarding a high security door. I run up behind him and wrap my arm around his thick neck, and hold tight for my life. He turns purple, and eventually stops struggling and goes limp. I slowly lower his body to the floor and step over him slowly, then resume my mad dash through the halls. At the end I see the large door, guarded by two men. My eyes scan the situation, although it seems hopeless. My mind tells me I carry no chance, but my soul tells me we are unconquerable. I make a decision that in many people eyes would appear stupid, but to me it was an act of true triumph. I gathered myself, took a deep breath and charged the door. They both looked at me in complete surprise, and I will never forget those puny, weak bloodshot eyes that they looked at me through. I roared, and all of my pent up anger and hurt came through with that mighty bellow. They both raised their spears to face me, but nothing would get in my way when I was this close. I cannot truly recall what happened in that precise moment, for the adrenaline, but I can tell you that both men were dead afterwards. The carnage was brutal, and I am not proud of what it took me. But as I approached the door that day, and as I walked out into the snow-covered mountaintop, I can remember the feeling of greatness, and the fact that no number of scars or years could contain me. I am the master of my fate, and I am the captain of my soul.

Author's Note

If anyone gets the reference, there is a little bit of influence from Kung Fu Panda in this short story. Anyways, tell me what yall think!

Reviews

[Marie]

But the ending sentence is from the poem "Invictus". that's the reference I got right away.