A “Dead” End

Chapter 1

I am Sarah, I live in an underground compound, at least I think it is underground because it is always cold here…… voices echo and it is still somewhat dark… despite the lights fixed-on over, every corner and passageway. I am required to follow a fixed routine everyday. I have never come across anyone here, except for the teachers and guards but I know there are other children here. I often wonder who these other children are? Do they belong to the teachers and the guards that live in the compound or are they like me………. alone? Are they required to follow the same routine as mine?….. do they also have classes daily from 5:00 am – 7:00 pm?....were they also given one meal a day?........do they ever get to go outside the compound? 

Are all the children in the world required to live the way I do or is there a different kind of life on the outside?........ Do I have any parents or relatives waiting for me outside these walls or am I an orphan. Does everyone on the outside wear a uniform like me…….. like the guards and the teachers here?

All my teachers say that I have special………if special means I have to train harder than an elite soldier, never go outside these walls, never meet any other children my age……….never get to do anything but train all day long ……..then I do not want to be special. I just want to be normal…….if normal can give me a life, then that is all I want. 

I have been taught all subjects, basic as well as advanced levels in – Maths, English, Science, Computer, Electronics, Robotics, History, Geography, Languages, Business……everything….. When I was 3 years old, I have learned about the seasons and the festivals around the world…….. I was taught about desserts and oceans……. forests and mountains……. I have seen maps of various countries and the world.…….. my teacher showed me pictures of different landscapes, the seven wonders of the world………there is so much beauty in this world…….so much to see that even a lifetime is not enough and if this is the only way for me to see the world, so be it…….I was determined to pour over every book I can get my hands on……….memorize every colour…..every shade………all that nature has to offer……….the bright coloured flowers, sunrise and sunset, the falling leaves in autumn, the icy rain of winter, a fresh layer of snow, the sandy beaches………and more…….so much more….

I wanted to experience it all – open skies, rain, hot rays of the sun, winter’s cold, the sound of birds………rainbows and butterflies……..everything…….every single thing……. My teachers say that wants and feelings are our biggest enemies, they lead us astray and cause hurt but I still want to know what it is like to feel……. even if I have to bear pain, I wanted to know what emotions felt like…………I have to ensure that no one can find out about it though, otherwise I will get sent to the dark room again……. 

The dark room is a place that taught me what fear is…… It is a place you get sent to when you have been bad, when you break any rules, fall out of line…...... It was not that I was afraid of the dark itself, but that room……it felt so chilling…..not chilly as in cold………..it was the feeling that you will never feel any warmth again. It sucks away all your thoughts, your soul, your senses…….. everything………till you feel like an empty shell. 

The first time I was sent to that horrible place, I was 5 years old. I wanted to sleep-in just a little bit longer, which made me loose track of time and I was late for my language class by 2 minutes. As a result of my tardiness, I was sent to the dark room for 2 days……a day for each minute I was late by. I was so scared, I wet myself the first night I spent there……. This angered my language teacher even more and she extended my punishment by another day…..It was the worst thing that could have happened to me at the time. I wanted to shout and cry but even at that age I knew that it will only bring more punishment, so I huddled in a corner……trying to pretend that I was somewhere else. It was not easy but I gave it everything I had….…I made sure I behaved so my punishment does not get extended again……….Since that day I was extra careful about following all the rules and my routine even more diligently than before…..

I was 9 when I made the mistake of telling my weapons instructor that I did not like guns…….their noise, the sound, the destruction…… it was just horrible. This time I was sentenced to 5 days in the dark room……..I was crying and sobbing on the inside but knew better to let my tears show on the outside. I decided to think of the dark room as a special room for meditation and spiritual connection but I could not fool myself into believing it………The next five days were pure torture……… my nerves were frayed and I was almost on the brink of a nervous breakdown………..even then, there was a part of my brain that knew if someone discovered the state I was in then it will lead to more serious consequences……..somehow I held on. As soon as I was freed from that hell I promised myself that I will never let myself go through this torture again……so I became the perfect student…….the perfect prisoner, for that is what I was……I had finally understood the reality of my circumstances……..

I was 10 when I returned back from my classes, one day, to find that an intercom has been installed in my cell……..that night, for the first time, I spoke with “the voice”………..it became my anchor, my friend, my confidant………in retrospect, what I thought off, as the best day of my young life……was the beginning of my doom……