I want to go home

Scarcely gaining consciousness, I wonder where I am. Then the category of human experiments enters my head.

I observe my thin hand trembling, making way, and lifting enough to wipe my swelled eyes.

Is this real; I ask myself.

A total body jerk overtakes me; the muscular guard pulls my poor soul through the door. He shouts questions, again and again, followed by head buzzing and flashes of intense light.

Over and over until I look down. The flashes of light reveal a cold stream of water; water wrapping around my ankles.

I see farmhouses, and green grass fading into rush hour traffic; the atmosphere fills with honking horns and screaming motorists.

Buzzing in my head again, it is all changing into freezing weather, mountain climbing, ropes, spikes, snow, and struggle.

The light stops and the images keep flashing in my head; I know one of them has to be home, which one? They all look so familiar.

I better get it right this time, after all, I want to go home, but where is home?

Home is all about what the Enforcers tell me to believe, not about what I real.
Real? I left real a long time ago.

Today is about survival, using memories, categories, and touchstones.

Ever since we left prison planet Earth, we are the experiments, through consistent reprogramming, we are forgetting where home is.

Who cares anymore, what good will it do to remember if we don’t survive with our memories? The Enforcers thinking is once we return to model citizenship, we won’t remember the resistance, or where to get supplies.

The only thing I remember for sure is my dog, Maggie, always there for me, day after day, with her wagging tail and brown coat, ready to play on a moment’s notice.

She is my touchstone because she keeps my mind from breaking into a million pieces.

I don’t care if the Enforcers give me a new memory of a different territory, as long as Maggie is with me.

If it weren’t for Maggie I would be dead right now. Her warning barks gave us the edge; we escaped out of the building before the explosion.

“Why are you barking, Maggie?” “Quick this way out the window.” I grab her and we jump.

Took them a real effort to get me with Maggie at my side.

Slowly, I slide to the edge of the floor, near the wall, knowing on the other side is freedom, but freedom from where?

Guards begin beating on the bars with their batons, “Hey you over there get away from that wall.” If you are hungry you will stay where we tell you, so we can slide the food over to you.”

Yes, Maggie, old girl it is you that keeps me going. You’re my touchstone.”

More shouts, “Over here NOW!”

I don’t even think Maggie would eat the food they sling at you in here.

Images source

Thanks for taking this journey with me.

Written for the Story-mentor task here

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