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Day 683. I got to go outside again today. This makes the second time in one week. I guess that’s my reward for good behavior. If only they knew what was really going on in my mind they’d keep me locked up forever, and throw away the key while they were at it.
It was one of the most spectacular sunrises I have ever witnessed. The twin moons hovered together like red and blue spheres of light. The thick atmosphere distorted them with waves of energy and made the colors bend and blend into each other like a mixing liquid. The sun rose from behind me, amplifying the brilliance of the setting moons ten-fold with its violent rays of amber light. The entire setting, the longing for home, for freedom, made me want to cry.
The moons set below the horizon and the rising sun began to heat up the planet, and I was herded back into the bowels of the planet before those searing rays could burn me. The cool dampness of the dark cave surrounded my body as I was led back into the caves by a giant, sloth-like creature that I had yet to place a name to. Almost two years here and I still couldn’t decide on a name for them.
I write in this journal every night, one of the only luxuries I’m allowed, and these two visits to the surface have definitely broken the monotony of my daily entries. But all repetition aside, I believe that were it not for my journal, I would have gone crazy a long time ago.
The creature led me to my room and fastened the blue collar back around my neck. I’m a blue miner. There are other colors associated with a various asundery of other jobs within this hellhole, but no two colors are allowed to interact with each other. Every beam and brace in this section of the complex network of tunnels is painted blue to match the collar around my, and everyone else’s neck in this section. We cannot venture out of the blue area for any reason.
For example, just down the hall from my room is the red section. If I were to venture from the blue and into the red, a sensor within my collar would send out a signal to some computer hidden somewhere on the planet in which another signal would be sent back to the collar. A small, electrical detonator would then ignite a ring of explosives that lined the inner layer of the collar. Needless to say, within thirty second of crossing into a section where I didn’t belong would do drastic changes to my personal, physical being.
Now, I sit in my room, jotting these notes in my journal and long for freedom. My brief taste of the outside world has sparked my need to be free and my long, meticulous planning is beginning to sound better and better. It was a definite long shot, but I had to try something. The alternative is to live the life of a slave till I die.
The creatures that hold me captive, for some reason that I have as yet to figure out, cherish coal like the human race cherishes gold. There are several other minerals and ores that they mine, but with each new vein of coal we find, their excitement increases. I wield my pick-ax the same as the other slaves, but as fate would have it, I am the luckiest at finding new veins of coal. This is probably why my captives have been giving me these special privileges of going topside.
Allowing me those privileges was a mistake, now my longing for freedom has increased drastically, and my plans for that escape has been taking shape faster and with more detail.
I’m still going to be patient though. There’s no room for error.
I hate the nighttime here, the down time. I’d rather be working on some vein of coal with my mind occupied than on the thoughts of home, of freedom. Freedom. Now there’s a complex word for you. We all take for granted the freedom we have until that freedom is taken away from us with slavery, war, even our own families in some cases. Whoever reads this in the future, be it ten years or a thousand, the meaning behind freedom will always stay the same. And I challenge anyone and everyone to cherish every minute of your freedom.
The night always passes slowly here, and the exhaustion of the slaves usually leaves the living quarters quiet, but tonight is different. A red collar crossed into the yellow collar section while I was topside and died. The entire cavern was a buzz of activity and chatter. Hundreds of different languages echoed down the corridors. Some of them I knew, others only a word or too, and most I didn’t have a clue what was being said, but I could certainly get the gist of the conversation.
I just want to sleep, but sleep is impossible now.
All I can do is stay awake and write in my journal.
And dream of the freedom I so desire.
I think of the things that I would do with that freedom.
I’d like to go swimming on the oceans of Candoria.
I’d like to run through the trees of Tipman 4.
I’d like to raise a family.
I’d like to visit Earth again.
But most of all, I’d like to sit down on a quiet beach somewhere, listen to the birds squawk as they float on invisible streams of wind, listen to the roar of the surf breaking on the ocean, and slowly savor the taste of a full bag of peanut M&M’s.
I think I miss those more than anything…next to my freedom that is.
Copyright March 2001 by Christopher J. Thomasson
