Torin Butler

School: Eastwood High School, East Renfrewshire
 

Freedom

 

The man walked away from the windowless, black building where he had been gathering dust for the last thirty years. He had grown to hate that place with its tall tower and screaming inhabitants. Lucky for him, he never had to deal with it ever again, for he had been “cured”. Did they know nothing? At last he was free of the boredom the boredom, of the wailing, of the incessant desperation to escape. All of it! Gone.

He walked along the gravel path, feeling the heat of the sun on his body for the first time in thirty years. He listened to the sound of the ocean, which surrounded the small island he had so desperately wanted to leave for so long. The man closed his eyes and stood there for a moment, enjoying his freedom, listening to the sound of the outside world; the wind softly pounding against the building, the quiet call of the only birds who live on the island, the screaming. The screaming, oh the screaming! The sound that he woke up to, ate breakfast to, tried to fight off when going to sleep, over and over again every day for his unbearable life. The screaming was the only thing left in his already tiny world, he had to get rid of it once and for all.

The man casually walked towards the boat, making sure he didn’t move too quickly and arouse any suspicion. He felt himself relax when he saw that the captain hadn’t arrived yet and the boat was empty. He quickened his pace, knowing that the captain could appear at any moment and shatter his plan.

The man reached the boat and instantly looked for anything that suggested a secret hatch, while silently reminding himself to hurry. He madly scanned the boat, pleading that he would find it. That’s when he saw it. A lone, rusty nail sticking out of the rotting wooden planks. This was it. The man invested all the hope of the last thirty years into pulling the nail. He heard the plank crack and pulled it apart.

Yes, yes, yes! It was all true. He had heard them muttering about it since he got here. The man shook with glee as he looked at enough explosives to topple a small skyscraper. That should do just fine. You see, when someone arrived at the asylum they never really escaped. When someone walks through those hateful black doors they were stripped of their freedom forever. When they were offered it back they were blown up by someone sitting miles away in a comfortable velvet armchair. To end a life all they need to do is push a button. The asylum wasn’t meant to help people. It was built to punish and torture. With all this hatred whizzing around his head, he was just strong enough to lift the explosives. 

He placed them around the base of the building, taking in the sound of the screaming for the last time. He started smiling, knowing that he would never have to endure another day of listening to it ever again. Now all he needed was a spark. Luckily most of the guards smoked. Before he walked out of the asylum he took a lighter when no one was looking. He brought the lighter down to the fuse and lit it. He watched as the sparks crept closer and closer to the explosives. At the last moment he looked at the building and smiled his last smile. The screaming had stopped. He was finally free.

 

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