Believing My Heart And Finding Hope Again

There are times, when the nights are cold and the wind whistles through the cracks in the floorboards and the walls, that I lose hope. There are times when I wonder if my family will ever see the sun again and feel warm under its rays. Life's simple pleasures are few and far between underground, and even when one manages to stumble across one, it brings little joy. Because as quickly as you discover something that brings you happiness here, just as quickly will they take it away from you.

We are not allowed to feel joy here. Our minds must always remain focused on work. Work is all we've been told to expect out of life and so we act accordingly. They've nipped our humanity in the bud and seek to make us little more than drones. Drones that follow obediently, walk in straight lines do what they're told when they're told to do it and nothing more or less. We are slaves. That, dear friends, is what their romanticised story about the great war and its outcome fails to tell you. We were not welcomed with open arms for any other reason than to be enslaved by the Proscript Party in all it's infinite glory.

They sicken me.

At first I was angry. Then afraid. Then angry again. I considered making the most out of what life had dealt me. But fate, fate has no hand in this. This is not my fate nor my destiny, and these cards were not dealt by some higher power. The Proscript Party is not God. They are not King and Country and Ruler. They are scum and now I feel nothing but disgust at the sight of them and all that they stand for. The occasional scraps of kindness we are thrown do nothing to make up for years of Slavery and punishment. I watch them, daily as they stuff their faces and lay around their comfortable homes - reaping the rewards won by the sacrifices of MY PEOPLE.

Perhaps, not for much longer. They've tried to stamp out any chances of a rebellion. Oh they have tried. But you can't treat someone they way we've been treated for so, so long and not expect any consequences. Those consequences are coming. I don't know when and I don't know how, but I know, in my heart I know. And I have to believe what my heart is telling me, because if I don't...then all hope is lost. And without hope, then so are we.

MK.

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Sunday Morning Underground

It is Sunday morning. Above ground, Proscript Party members and their families visit their local houses of worship or magnificent towering cathedrals to worship the God who gives them so much: freedom, sunlight, fresh air, warm homes, every opportunity to learn and grow -- things that every human being should have the right to experience. They should thank God for all they receive.

In this cold and dark place, I thank the Creator for my blessings on this Sunday morning, but it wounds me to the core that I have no place to gather with like-minded people. While I know that we can pray anywhere, I long to do so in one of the beautiful buildings erected to honor the one who gives so much and guides us daily. Why am I denied the opportunity to worship with a group? Why could I not marry in a beautiful dress and walk down a flower-filled aisle in a special temple of worship? What happens to the bodies of Grotians when we are gone? I don't like to think about that last question, but it haunts me because I believe all people should be buried with dignity and respect.

God, do you hear my plea? Or are you just listening to the ones above ground?

~~Faithful One

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