Be Different

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Suddenly, the dirt ground of the secret room rumbled.  I heard a scream that could be no other’s but my own as the breath was knocked out of me.  Then, the ground started to dip.  Towards the hole. 

I scrambled upwards, trying to get away so that I didn’t fall into the flaming pit.  The floor beneath me shook with such intensity, I heard a bone in my right arm crack.

*****

His name was Declan.  He had been my best friend ever since I reached the age of imagining at age six.  My older sister always said I was imagining even before I was six.  At age five, I made up my first story.  My parents were shocked and warned me to not think of making up stories or images in my head until my sixth birthday.

         But, Asie knew.  My older sister always knew.  I was writing stories in my head constantly, but before I was six, I told them only to her.  She helped me learn. Being seven years older than me, she knew everything I wanted to know about creating stories.  When I entered the Imagining age, she grew out of it that same month and moved on to more serious stuff in her life.  She still listened to my stories though.  She always said that everyone should be aloud to be creative even after the age of thirteen.  She said that that’s what God would want.

         The night I turned six, Declan appeared underneath my bed.  He taught me the arts of dreaming and hoping on things that society said was wrong.  He taught me how to play in nothing but a flat, grassy space but still have the adventures of a lifetime.  He taught me how to paint with my fingers and play in the mud.  He taught me how to be a kid.

         As I grew older, he was the same old Declan, just more restricted.  But my thirteenth birthday was the last time I would ever see him again.  It was my first time being treated like an adult.  It was nice, but not as much fun as I thought it would be.  There was not supposed to be more monster-under-the-bed in me, but…there still was.

*****

         August 22, 2012 was my first day in what they called “logic school.” None of my classmates really knew each other because when we were younger, everyone played with their monsters.  In all my classes, my teachers never cracked a smile the entire hour.  But, English class was coming up.  How could the Department of Rules make stories and reading less fun?

         Somehow they did.  “This year, we will be learning how to apply the knowledge we learn to philosophical essays. There will be no more childish stories like was read to you when you were in the Imagining age. Now you are mature adults. There will be no more silly talk and fun discussions. In this class, we will learn only what is applicable for your future life and career,” Mrs. Longhan explained.

         I rolled my eyes and when I look up, the older lady gave me a dirty look.  I guess she caught my disgust. 

         I hurried home and immediately caught Asie before she started on her math homework.  “Asie, I-” But I was stopped by my parents wanting to know how it went.  I finally got to talk to my sister once they left.

         Asie was due to leave home next month.  Twenty years old meant you were moving out of the Logic age and into the Career age.  I’d definitely miss her wise advice.  And I envied her a bit.  She got to move out of Rhode Island to Virginia where people were normal.  How did the rest of the country not wonder what had been going on in our tiny state ever since 1943?

         “It was terrible, wasn’t it?” Asie concluded before I had a chance to speak.

         I groaned. “Yeah, I could barely stand it. Even English class!”

         Asie sighed. “I don’t know, Adam. I’ve thought about this long and hard every night since I was your age. I still miss my monster like you. I miss the days when I was allowed to act silly and childish. But, my passion of dancing was taken away from me just like your love of writing was.  It’s very cruel to give you seven years of fun and then suddenly take it away.”

         I nodded.  It was cruel.  I just wanted to have a different talent than everyone else in Rhode Island.  I wanted to be unique.

*****

         The next day at school, Mrs. Longhan informed us about a paper due in three weeks.  The topic was something someone important in your life had taught you and how it had affected your life.

         I mulled over this the rest of class and then I got a huge brainstorm.  But, I decided I’d have to ask Asie about it first.

         Asie thought it was a great idea.  To show them how creative writing could also be well-written and applicable, I decided to write a creative paper, bubbling over with vivacious adjectives, about how Declan taught me that being unique and creative and true to yourself is one of the most important things to know.  He taught me how God made us to be creative.  Mrs. Longhan herself didn’t seem to know it and I wanted to teach her.  It would definitely be the most unique paper in the pile.

         A week later, I turned in my rough draft.  I was very proud of it.  But, two days later, Mrs. Longhan stormed into my math class, grabbed me by the arm, and practically dragged me to the Principal’s office.

         All principals in schools all over Rhode Island had to be members of the Department of Rules.  This also meant they had to be very strict.  Our principal had never seemed any different.

         We entered the Principal’s office where Principal Rylan was standing up in front of his desk.  Mrs. Longhan thrusted me towards him and the principal grabbed me by my shoulders.

         Principal Rylan turned to her. “Flip the switch and lock my door on your way out.”  So, Mrs. Longhan flipped the top “light” switch on the wall and as she left, I heard a click.  I was locked in with Principal Rylan. 

However, the switch she had flipped had not turned out the lights.  I heard the sound of an automatic door and when Principal Rylan turned me around, I saw a dark cavern that had opened up on the entire back wall of the office.  “Let’s take a walk. I will show you something that few students have ever seen before.”

*****

         I could barely walk, my knees trembled so much.  I was glad I had whisked my phone off my desk when Mrs. Longan had pulled me away.  I thought about making a run for it since I knew that Principal Rylan definitely wouldn’t be able to keep up with me, but then I remembered that the door had closed behind us.  There was no way but forward.

         We finally came upon an opened space with a deep hole in the middle and torches hanging all around.  Hundreds of passageways also led to this open space which Principal Rylan explained were tunnels from other principal’s offices.

         Principal Rylan left me for a minute warning me not to move to go into a closet looking for something.  I took the chance I had to text Asie.  She immediately responded:

Oh no! Should I call the police?

No, they would only defend Principal Rylan.

I’ll come immediately!

Thanks sis. Gtg!

I quickly stuffed my phone back into my pocket and Principal Rylan came back with a small, red remote.  He smiled evilly at me and then clicked the top button.

Up from the hole in the center came a round platform.  On the platform was a tall tube and inside the tube was a monster…Declan! 

“Here is your precious monster.” The principal pressed another button and flames flung out from the bottom of the hole.  “If you take an oath to stop being creative like in that paper you wrote, Declan will be saved. But if you, for some reason, decide that you would rather keep your creativity, Declan will fall into the flames and you will be banned into a small island located in the middle of the ocean where no one can reach you. Make your choice.”

A faint voice came from the tube, “Stand up for creativity, Adam! No matter what happens, at least you’ll have that!”

I was then forced to face the hardest decision I had ever faced in my life.  Declan was the one I loved above anyone else save my parents and Asie.  I couldn’t kill him!  But, if I took the oath, I would never be able to write a creative story again unless it was coincidentally my Career. 

Principal Rylan’s face mirrored that of a stoic, somber soldier.  Declan’s was an expression of love and pleading.  I went to the edge of the hole at the beckoning of Declan’s finger.  “You were the most creative kid I was ever in charge of. Don’t ever let that go.” 

“But I can’t let you die!” I was frantic.  “Don’t worry about me,” I heard over the roar of the flames.

“I- I… I choose to be creative!” But, my choice was never heard because suddenly, we heard a booming noise.  It got louder and louder until I thought my eardrums would explode.  Principal Rylan held his hands over his ears as well.  The noise was like that of cannons very close by.  The clamor of running feet sounded in every corner of the room.

Out of every passageway leaked screams of horror and fright.  It was the most terrible sound I had ever heard.  The cannon noises got even louder.  I smelled something like sulfur rock that flooded into the arena and filled my nostrils.  The odor was so strong, Declan started to gag from inside the tube.

Suddenly, the dirt ground of the secret room rumbled.  I heard a scream that could be no other’s but my own as the breath was knocked out of me.  Then, the ground started to dip.  Towards the hole.  

I scrambled upwards, trying to get away so that I didn’t fall into the flaming pit.  The floor beneath me shook with such intensity, I heard a bone in my right arm crack. 

I looked up to Declan, whose platform was rocking back and forth like crazy.  “This is the Day of Reconstruction!  Every monster learns about it.  This only happens when a human decides to be creative past their Imagining years even if it could mean death!” Declan shouted with all the gusto he could muster.

The Day of Reconstruction- that sounded promising.

*****

         When I woke up, I was sitting in a classroom.  ENGLISH was written on the board in big letters and in front of it stood a smiling teacher.  “This year we will be writing plenty of creative stories.  I want everyone’s paper to be different and show their unique personality.”

         This is the story of how I changed the society of Rhode Island during the Day of Reconstruction.  The past was all wiped away.  It only took one person who decided to be different.

*****

         Sure, our culture is not like this, but it’s an interesting example of how we should not follow what the crowd is doing just because everyone is telling us to.  But, we should be set apart and different than the rest of the world because we our God’s children. 

Proverbs 4:14-15, “Do not set foot on the path of the wicked or walk in the way of evildoers. Avoid it, do not travel on it; turn from it and go on your way.”

         Be different and use your own unique gifts to glorify God, not man.  You are created perfect and in the image of the King of Kings!  So live like it!