Where Anyone is Possible
Hi, first of all I want to thank you for reading this. OK, I need help of becoming a better RP. I can do paragraph RP but, I worry about the quality of it. I am going to post sample of an intro…Continue
I remember seeing this poster many times around the Uganda, a country in Africa, my home. I felt like I should remember it, remember in a way where it held a deeper meaning to me. Perhaps it once did, maybe it was a person I failed to save while I kept underground for 10 years. Could it be me 10 years ago? If so that person died along with my memories.
If someone is reading this, then I better start at the beginning or at the very least the earliest memory I can recall. First thing I can remember is darkness, faces of my cellmates pressing their faces against the glass, their voices, and pain. From what I could see around me, there was five of us in the center of the room. There were other glass cells but, I could only see so far from where I was kept. All range of ages, race, and gender, we could speak to each other sometimes, and I have to admit that was only thing that helped me stay alive, to have hope. We shared stories, comfort each other, and prayed when one of us was taken away by a team of four doctors. All four would wear green or blue garbs, I think they are called scrubs? They always wore surgical mask , which sent shivers down my spine. Making me cringe every time I even think about seeing their half covered faces. Like many days before, it was my turn to see the doctor. Torn away from the only people I know, it was there turn to pray for me, in hopes I return or to die swiftly. I remember all to often, looking up and seeing his face, speaking to his co-workers about me as if I was another product. Dr. Steele
I assume you know the rest yet, what you may not know is for all I know I might as well been created in that underground lab. At the time I truly believed I was just product that may one day change the world. I heard Mr. Steele say that so many times, might as well be an old song playing in my head. Day, after day, I brought in by four masked doctors to Mr. Steele and his crew, I began to wonder why I suddenly became so popular or was my head playing tricks on me again about the days? There was no clock, no sunlight, nothing to tell me expect for the ticking sound of a clock. I use to count the ticking sounds to help take my mind off from the burning pain. Another endless day came and I was strapped down on the surgical table, completely unaware what the screens me were saying, nor knew why the doctors grew strangely excited. After that day, I didn't return to my 12 by 12 glass cell. I came to complete solitude...
Only the ground was hard but the walls were soft, such an odd feeling at the time, soft. Soft as my hair and easy to touch with my finger tips. Once I was over my excitement, I realize I could hear the clock much louder than before but, no voices. MY FRIENDS! I began to panic, my mind refusing to accept I was alone in my life. I bounce off from the walls, climbed them, broke serval finger-nails, ram against the door until I fell, and thrash madly against the floor. Hitting the floor head first, felt as if a sharp needle was jarred into my head. Next thing I knew I black out, and woke up in a straight-jacket, and a new padded floor.
In time, I learn to keep the memories of my cell-mates friends alive in me the good and the bad. Hearing screams, much like my own, and sounds, sounds I wasn't sure of but they shook me to the core. As more time past, the only happiness I had, the ones of my friends slowly began to fade. What were the doctors doing to me? Was it causing me to lose my mind? How they justify their actions for what they are doing to me? To us!! I-I couldn't take it anymore!! I wish I was a wall, a wall has no feelings, no emotions, no pain...I wanted out but, I did nothing. The spirit to fight, the flame of hope I once held, died a long time ago, at least I during that moment I thought that was true. Karwana, a boy who was only 12 years old. His name meant he was born during war time, and he was always so sweet and told the funniest stories, even if he made them up on the spur of the moment. I heard him scream, the kind no one should ever hear, the scream and sudden silence. The sudden silence was so loud, it seem there wasn't room for nothing else. I had to do SOMETHING! I had to get through I had to get...out.
Caught by a security camera was a photo of me phasing through the wall. What were my thoughts at the time? Phasing through the wall like a ghost? Also what I saw of what was left of Karwana filled with terror and rage. I was too late to save Karwana, and so, so many others later on that day. At that very moment fear, pure outrage, and a messed up mind became a toxic mix.
I do not know what they did to Karwana, but from the doctors expressions some were disappointed their experiment failed, while others seem more distress about the mess, a few laughed speaking in some doctor language . Till this day, I can hear them laughing, laughing at the result of the failed experiment, the faild product. That day, whoever I was before died, and I became a monster. Using my curse, gift, talent, mutation, whatever you want to call it, I used it to phase my hand through their chest and rip out their hearts. A bloody mess it was yet, I didn't get all of them. The entire place went crazy, lights flicker, people I released running around, some mad, some sane, others just huddle in the corner crying. Seeking my chance to free the others, I was able to break the locks of the cell from the inside-out. Using my hands phasing in and outer and inner parts of the metal locks. This wasn't painless for me, nor did breaking the locks go smoothly. Reason why is simple to answer, painful because back then, I was just learning to phase through things.
Nabulungi who been here the longest and was still alive was Karwana mother. She came to me asking if I was willing to help her find a photo of her son to. I was confused at first, unable to remember the day they took my photo for the doctors records. During the madness, I was too scared to try phasing through a wall again, fearing I may become trapped if I ever tried it again. Wanting to help Nabulungi, I already felt sad for her losing her son. It was the least I can do to help get something back to her that was taken away, even if it was just a photo, a picture was better than nothing. Thinking its better to lose a hand than a whole body, I used my hands on door knobs, like I did before with the cell locks. Until we came HUGE room filled with metal filing cabinets. Before we knew it, the madness followed us in but, not before Nabulungi and I found our papers. There it was, a missing poster of a young girl, half Japanese and half American. It was a photo from 12 years ago, I wouldn't have known it was me if it wasn't for Nabulungi telling that what I looked like when I was 12. Thinking about it now, it seem Nabulungi had a gift of remembering every detail of her past, the good and bad.
Suddenly, at that moment, I learned what kind of trouble my new talent can cause, for every action there is a ripple effect. Guns in Uganda weren't allowed to civilians, only to military and guards. Privately owned guards came in guns a blazing, forcing bodies to hit the floor dead and alive. Reacting without thinking, Nabulungi and I started a fire, keeping the guards and doctors distracted while we race towards our freedom.
Nabulungi and I, along with a few others manage to escape alive, hurt, bleeding, and burnt. Nonetheless the 7 of us were alive and free. Clinching to my papers, my files, I left Nabulungi and the others, I didn't want Dr. Steele to come after them again, and in order to do that, someone has to make enough noise to distract him. Making myself a target, I know now why the doctors became excited, why I was locked away all alone. No more, I will not allow no one to lose their freedom, to lose themselves. I have breathe my last regret, its time to bury all this hurt. I've got nothing left to lose,
I've got everything to prove.
Funny, we don't do something unless something bad happens to us...
Long story short, I have learned to live on my own, gain street smarts, and improve my talent to the point where I can nearly phase through anything. Remember Julia Yang? She went missing for 10 years, and is now presumed dead. Am I truly this Julia Yang? Kidnapped at age 12, and now is 22? Maybe I picked up the wrong file, nonetheless I picked a new name for myself from a dictionary. Incognita, which is an adjective, in·cog·ni·ta, with the identity disguised or hidden, e.g. under an assumed name.
Nita for short. Of course, people that have seen me, have their own names for me. Shadow Cat, Death Shadow, and serval curse words. No matter what I am called, I am ready to fight.
"The only way to make sense of change is to plunge through it, move through it, and join the dance."- Allan W. Watts
The Story So Far...
Nameless has long forgotten her birth name and her oldest friend the unicorn Misty whirlwind, also has forgotten how her two-legged sister birth name.
A mystery among them and it seems to anyone they meet. Their home, the elves,…
Rouge: I grew up in a large clan of centaurs called the Terra Tranquility. We roam with freedom burning in our hearts and ancient culture provided our way of life. I remember when I use to race with the other fillies and colts. We would dodge around rocky outcrops and leap over sparkling…Continue