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My Freedom: A Fictional Narrative Essay

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The entire town was gathered in front of our town hall surrounding the raised wooden platform that had one long wooden pole, where three ropes hung above each rebel. I watched from the sidelines next to my father, the Lieutenant General, searching for the familiar face I have come to know so well, my Daemon. It was six months ago when I was taken from the shelter of my home. “Mary! Mary!” I hear my longtime friend, Katherine, getting closer to the door. “Katherine, what are you yelling about? You need to be quiet, Matt and Joseph are sleeping and what are you-.” She doesn’t answer me just frantically pulls on the long sleeve of the prairie dress women are required to wear. “Please you must hurry, I found an injured man in the forest on…show more content…
Anger and panic swirls in the pit of my stomach, I start to bang against the wooden door, “Hello! Is anyone there! Let me out!” I don’t know how long I bang and yell, it feels like ages, I don’t stop until my voice is hoarse and my hands throbbing like my head. “Please.” I whimper stumbling back and falling to my knees clasping my hands above me my cross gripped tightly in my hands leaving an imprint in my hands. I begin to recite verses of the bible, praying for the Lord to free me from my prison. I hear the creak of the door opening, though I keep reciting the verses, my anger grows at the mysterious figure who took me from my home. “I thought you Christian girls were supposed to not make a sound unless told to do so.” A gravelly voice pulls me out of my prayers; the grip on my cross slackens until it falls landing on the floor with a clang as I realization stops me cold. “Noah?” I breathe out as I look upon the man I once thought was dead. ‘He hasn’t changed in the three years I last saw him. Still believes himself to be the rebel.’ I note looking at the stubborn set of his defined jaw. “I was told you were dead, killed by a Muslim bombing.” I stand up from my kneeling position, waiting on Noah to disappear in front of me. His jaw tightens “no that was a lie,” he growls eyes sparking with irritation, “and the name given to me by your people is Daemon.” “Daemon? What are you talking about? That’s the name of
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