Finding Freedom

I fidgeted with the shackles clasped around my ankles. My skin burned as the metal rubbed against my infected lesions which caused me to suck in a quick breath of air between clenched teeth. I groaned as I stood up off the dirt-encrusted, concrete floor of my cell and hobbled over to the leak in the cell’s ceiling where water trickled down in steady, persistent drops. The cool water alleviated my wounded ankles as it dribbled down onto my skin. In the dim light, a young girl watched me between the gaps of the metal bars. Her nappy hair clung to her head in mats and grime layered her beautiful almond skin. I felt sorrow in my heart as I gazed back into her sunken eyes. She was so young, around ten.

“Would you like some water?” I croaked. My voice turned raspy long ago from all the dirt particles of mining. She nodded her head, but remained crouched in the corner of her cell. I beckoned her forward, waving her over with my hand extended out. Her milk chocolate eyes stared at me in weariness, but she sidled the wall as she edged towards me with ginger steps.

I rubbed my hands together under the stream of water to clean them then cupped them together for the water to pool within. Once full, I took the short but precarious journey to the cell bars, careful to keep my fingers tightly pressed together. Unsure what to do, she stood watchful a foot from the bars that separated us. “Well, come on.”

She scurried forward and placed her head between the bars as she tilted her head back with her mouth opened wide. I scrunched my nose at her putrid breath and the mix of our body odor as I poured the water into her mouth. “Too bad we can’t take a bath, am I right?”

Her eyes flicked open and over to me as the last drops of water fell onto her lips. “More?” she murmured, pointing back to the stream.

I smiled. “Oh, so you can talk?”

She twisted her tiny hands together as a meek smile played on her lips.

“Alright, I’ll get…”

A loud clang resonated throughout the ward of cells as the metal gate of the entrance slammed open. I darted away to my cell’s back wall as tall, slender figures in armored suits filled the halls. Their eyes gleamed red behind the transparent shield of their helmets. Two miniature ray guns, latched onto their armor at the shoulders, swiveled around prepared to shoot if anyone were to attack or rebel. There was a guard and key keeper for each prisoner, insuring we’d be easy to manage. It wasn’t difficult for them since they outnumbered us ten to one. The human population had been massacred down to just two million during a time when the world was divided. It wasn’t hard for them to use our animosity towards one another to encourage war behind the scenes through technology. Once the genocide had done most of the damage, they killed all resistors and imprisoned the rest of us, slaves for eternity. We could buy our freedom by mining resources, but it required an amount that took decades to reach. Many of us died young due to harsh conditions and poor health. They held little care for our hygiene and medical needs. At 45, I was considered old, at least on this planet. Humans were grouped off onto different planets to mine different resources. Every day we were let out to mine where we were watched by our assigned guard, and every night we returned to our cells. Socialization was limited as well as the number of offspring, easy for a race of around two billion to manage.

Their presence in the ward meant the start of work. While I wasn’t sure of the time in accordance to earth, our mornings started as the planet’s home star rose in the horizon whether the temperatures felt cold or hot. Thankfully, in the midst of midseason meant the weather felt nice and mild, desirable for a hard day of work. The aliens opened the cell doors in sync with one another, as if connected as one though they were many, the sight eerie yet awe-inspiring.

Used to the daily routine, we all lined up in the dingy hall of the ward, marching out into the morning glimmers of light with obedience driven by fear. Sand riddled with patches of grass and plants filled the landscape for as far as one could see. A light breeze wove through our hair and traced our skin. Despite the dire circumstances, the planet was one to appreciate. The sky glowed in a gradient of various blues and pinks above as we trudged our way to the pit where we mined. The entrance of the mine gaped open wide like a hungry mouth. The tunnels within remained a crisp sixty degrees year round, and void of workers, haunted the dark with silence. However, as the mass of gaunt, filthy workers filled the mine, clanks and clatters replaced the silence and torches fought back the shadows.

I weaved my way deep within, shivering in the cool air. My teeth chattered, and I wrapped my arms arounds myself. Ironically, I knew I’d soon sweat. Once away from all other prisoners, I went to work, picking at the stone deep within the ground. I long ago learned to ignore the ache of my muscles as I swung, and my calloused hands no longer stung from sores. I’d grown to prefer the mine over the cell. Out in the mine, I could roam, I could find relics of the ancient society that lived here before or learn about the planet. Best of all, I worked towards my freedom. I slammed my pickaxe down and stone chipped away, hitting the ground with a thunk that I relished. Each echo motivated me to hit more and harder. I got into a rhythm that satisfied me enough to zone out and go through the motions. I didn’t even notice when I broke through a wall. I swung, but with a lack of a surface to smash, my pickaxe continued to sweep down, throwing me off balance. I stumbled forward and braced myself against the wet, cool wall of the tunnel

I peeked through the whole, barely wide enough for me to fit through. Clean-cut and engraved stone formed a wall of a buried building. The room wasn’t much bigger than my cell, but the heavy darkness obscured any details or contents. I popped my head out of the whole to scope the area. With no other prisoners nearby, I grabbed my torch and squeezed within. As the fire light illuminated the space, the shine of gold flashed my eyes. The mound carried around a $20,000 value, enough to buy my freedom. My heart pounded as my wide eyes took in the sight. I could go home to Earth. My eyes were wet, but a smile covered my face. I darted back out of the whole, running towards the entrance to inform my captors of my find.

At the edge of the entrance, I saw the young girl from the cell next to me. I paused to watch her. She picked away at the stone entrance in weariness, the pickaxe too heavy for her tiny arms. At the sight of her, I pulled out a worn, little black notebook that I carried on me at all times. With a slow gait, I came up to her. She peered up at me, offering a tired smile.

“This is for you.” I extended the book out.

She furrowed her brows and squinted her dark eyes in confusion but took the book from my hands with care.

“Our history is contained in this book. Our success and failures, it’s all in here. We once were a divided race. Always at war, forgetting we were all one race, the human race. We should have been united, and we weren’t. There were so many wrongs that we can’t fix, but I can do this one right. Wrong was done to your ancestors due to your beautiful skin. You shouldn’t experience anymore of this.” I caressed her face with my hand, her dark skin in contrast with my light. “When you get back to Earth, make sure the future does things right and unite, okay?”

With her nod of confirmation and understanding to reassure me, I made my way to our captors. They turned to me as I neared them. They doubled my height, but my mission to do right gave me a sense of bravery. “I’d like to buy the young girl’s freedom home.”