Waiting For Freedom

It’s only a few minutes before they release me from this prison I’ve been in all day. I yearn for fresh air, for the feel of the wind whipping through my hair as I run to the safety and warmth of my home. It’s raining now, the icy liquid plunging to the ground in sheets of misery and despair. Or at least I imagine it is. I can’t see for sure, for the windows have been enveloped in drapes of dark fabric. I stare at the walls surrounding me – oh, the joy I shall feel when I leave. But for now, I shiver against the cold, picturing myself lounging in the sun, attempting to warm myself up. It doesn’t work.

My cellmates surely must feel as I do. I, for one, cannot wait to break free from the grasp of my prison, to sink back into the hidden corners of happiness that must be around somewhere. But for now, I am hopelessly trapped. I rely solely on the promise of The Leaders, the promise that they shall release me when the signal sounds.

The wind whips through the open window, tugging apart the sheets of fabric as if they are tissue paper, allowing me a glimpse of the outside world. It is raining, as I suspected. The water sprays through the curtains, onto my face. This is what I will experience when I am set free.

A Leader approaches. I straighten my posture, for I have learnt from past events that they do not approve of slouching. He smiles wickedly at us while we suffer, waiting for freedom.

Finally – the signal we have all been desperately waiting for, the only thing that encourages us to hang on, our last hope. It echoes through the room like a train in a tunnel. I stand, my legs aching from lack of use. When I turn back to The Leaders, they nod; we have obtained freedom. As we slowly depart from the prison, I decide that the exit is a funnel; we are packed inside the confines of the walls, and as we reach the doors, we slowly trickle out, suddenly free to wander wherever we wish.

As I step through the doors, just a single drop amongst many, I am met with the familiar icy blast of wind and misty rain. Just as I had hoped, the gale tears through my hair, whipping it about my face. I run, not stopping until I have reached my destination – home. I step through the door, where I am greeted with warmth and a strong feeling of security. I walk inside in a trance and sit beside a window, taking advantage of this feeling. Tomorrow, the events of the day will repeat, and I can do nothing about it. I can only let them unfold, and continue holding on until I am released for good.

FOLLOW US


25

Write4Fun.net was established in 1997, and since then we have successfully completed numerous short story and poetry competitions and publications.
We receive an overwhelming positive feedback each year from the teachers, parents and students who have involvement in these competitions and publications, and we will continue to strive to attain this level of excellence with each competition we hold.

KEEP IN TOUCH

Stay informed about the latest competitions, competition winners and latest news!