It’s been 51 days. 51 days of hiding. Of resisting. Of being under threat. That is a long time, though it may not seem like it. But let me tell you, it feels longer when you’re cold, wet, hungry, thirsty. It feels longer when you haven’t had a proper nights sleep because you’re always on edge. Always afraid. Afraid of the unknown. It feels longer when the sound of the bombs from the city centre are deafening. In fact, we have almost become used to the sound of bombing. Well, I have anyway. I can’t speak for the others hiding out here in the Dublin mountains, away from the heart and the action.
There are 11 families here. All living in the same conditions that we shouldn’t have to. My family of four have been resisting the Authority. My parents feel strongly about resistance. They say you should never let yourself be pushed and to always have your mind and make it strong at that. I guess that’s why I’m so driven as a person. They enforced it in me to be my own person. So, when the Authority started to take over us – our lives, our home, our culture, everything, there was only one thing to do; resist.
Once again another bomb, even closer this time around. I can even see the smoke in the near distance. I must take cover, but I’m afraid it’s too late for me now. I can see Her army approaching us. It’s hard to miss the red slashes across their faces, representing Her, the head of the authority. The centre of all this mass destruction. She wasn’t always like this. I know this because I know her. I knew her, I should say. She’s not the person I used to know, she’s changed. She used to be good, kind, sweet. She used to do the right thing in every situation, always. But now, her whole belief system has changed. In my opinion, clearly for the worst! I suppose there is only so much bad, horrible, nasty things a good person can go through without reaching some sort of limit or something. Some good people stay good or even get better, appreciate pain and hurt and grow from it. She didn’t. She wallowed in self-pity and hatred and anger and felt the need to spread it.
The screaming began a while ago. I guess I didn’t notice as I was in such a deep train of thought. They are getting louder now. Louder and louder. I’m now finding myself scream. A sense of panic has taken over and filled my body. Then, a soldier physically took over my body.
They dragged me to their carts. I kicked and screamed and struggled for my freedom. I wasn’t the only one who desperately wanted to get back to my family. I was completely surrounded by kids being dragged in the same way as myself. All being torn from their loved ones. All being denied of their rights. Their lives. Or, at least from what they had left of them.
They threw us all into cages, clustered in together as if we were some kind of animals. Suddenly, we were all jerked as the cart started to move down the mountains. I assumed we were going to the city. Gradually, all the cries of mothers faded out and the city emerged. It appeared to be in pieces. Smithereens actually. Both the structure and the life of the city were destroyed. I was sat beside a girl around my age. She was shaking with fear. “Aren’t you afraid?” she asked. I thought for a second. Actually, I felt for a second. My body had never felt more exhausted and physically drained but I had never felt more energy within myself. With almost no hesitation I said “No. Just angry”. From that moment onwards, I decided to use my own strong mind as I’d been thought to always do.
The cart came to a sudden stop. This was my chance. This was our chance. The soldiers got out to see to the problem. I had to do something. We seemed to have stopped at a check point for military. How convenient?! I built up the courage I knew I had deep inside me and I stood up. All eyes in the cart gazed up at me. They were all full of fear, fear of what was next, of the unknown, I suppose. “Stand!” I said. No one moved. This was going to take some convincing. “Stand with someone who you share the same beliefs with and rebel against the ones of which you don’t!”. Gradually, one by one, they stood. All following each other. We had power in numbers.
We used our weight to tipple over the carriage. Of course, the clatter of the metal cages alarmed the soldiers when they hit the ground. We all scrambled out of the cages to escape and take our freedom back. All of their weapons and guns fell to the ground. They were going to be used by the soldiers for the wrong reasons. All of us resisters dived into them and grabbed whatever we could. We started shooting and roaring and ran for our lives.
We made it back to the mountains to our families. The look of complete and utter joy on their faces was so rewarding. I had never felt more alive and proud to be. I will resist until resistance is no longer needed.