Forbidden

There I was, just standing there, when what I wanted to do was forbidden.

I looked across the wasteland that was my hometown. Home. That word had new meaning now. It used to be a place where you relaxed after your day. The place where you felt secure, took your shoes off and left your worries at the door to pick up on the way out after a peaceful nights rest.

Now, home was a foreign word. It was a dream, a yearn that would never be fulfilled. Home was a concept wrapped in happiness with a bright bow of peace on top. Now…

I couldn’t think of this anymore. Stress was affecting my body negatively. The physical manifestations forced one to consider what it is that was most important to suffer over.

I wanted love. Fleeting love. Why was it forbidden? Noone was sure and rumors abounded. Love nurtured hope. It produced feel good chemicals in the body. It bonded you to another and made you both stronger.

All things that would potentially destroy the Empire.

But a girl could still dream. Even if in silence. Even having to hide my thoughts from the mind scanners that swept by regularly.

It was but a dream. But it was worth the stress of hiding.

“She may be young, but she’s not stupid.”

I heard the elders murmur this more than once as I perused the black market. Slipping through the dark alley’s junk and into the basement of the building, they talked about me when they thought I was beyond hearing. I would linger over beautiful useless trinkets I could not afford. Daring my fingers to touch. To hope.

They knew something I was on the verge of knowing. I would do something. Driven by the dangerous hope within me, I could feel a fire brooding within. What move I would make I did not know. But I knew it was going to be me.

Why me?

Again, not a question that had an answer.

I often wondered how many people actually dreamed and hoped. We dared not speak of it, for fear the wrong ears would catch. You could not trust anyone. Even the elders. They could be spies. It would be worth it, they got the least rations. I wouldn’t blame them.

But I wouldn’t dare trust them.

I was going to do something. Its crazy to know that, to feel that, but to know nothing else.

The day I loaned Morgan $400 was the day of the Take Over. That is what I called that moment because before that I was normal. That was when I realized I felt what they call hope. The way he looked at me… $400 was a lot of money. His little sister was dying. She needed medicine. I gave him all I had saved and hidden.

I did it out of love

Love? Or hope?

Are they one and the same?

Why else would I have given all I had for nothing in return.

I dared to allow the feeling to wash over me as I stepped beside him.

He was going to his mandatory “work” if you could call it that. His task was manual and backbreaking, not something someone of his brilliance should be doing. He should be creating worlds on a computer or teaching budding brilliants in a University lecture hall. His beautiful mind is wasted in this hell of a world we existed in now.

He dared to look at me. We slowed to a stop and I felt his soul bleed from his blue eyes and caress me from the outside in. A longing. A draw. He needed no words. I felt it stronger than anything.

I had to hope. I had to love. We had to escape. Together.

I would risk my life for love. Because without love there is no life.

Todays brilliant Weekend #Freewrite is brought to us by the bright and beautiful @mariannewest. Join the challenge CLICK HERE and let your soul pour onto the page :)

Images via Pixabay and Creative Commons

I appreciate your support :)