The Search for Freedom

If I could say a word, I had already shouted everything I wanted to say. I knew he was a kind man, for he didn't seriously hurt me and he wasn't irritated though my body wanted to kick and punch him. He was kind, that even though I didn't reply to his words and questions, he still didn't go anywhere. But I also knew he wasn't as patient as paper. I didn't know what he could do to me if he was out of patience.

After a while, my feet brought me towards the man, and I continued kicking and punching him. As it were, it was like playing boxing, and I didn't know what it really wanted to do. I didn't know if it was just playing with the man or if it really wanted to hurt him. Perhaps it was just a warm up and the real fight was going to happen.

As what I expected, the play round was over. Everything was getting more dangerous when the curse used its real strength, the strength of dark magic. It controlled my arms to punch the man's face, making him tumble down on the ground. It controlled my leg to kick him, making him roll over the yard, but he was not out of consciousness.

That man was so hard that even though he could receive thousands of punches and kicks, he wasn't affected. Though my hands had made him tumble and drop many times, he still had the strength to stand up and fight me. He was so powerful as he made me bounce and plummet on the grassy lawn with a single kick to the neck. I felt a slight pain.

He might be running out of patience; he didn't want to play boxing with me anymore, for it wasn't really a play. He might be mad for wasting his time on a bothersome boy. As I estimated, he was five times heavier and five times stronger than

me.

I had been underestimating him. It didn't cross my mind how strong he was. I might be just a small stone to him. But even though I was like that, he could not kill me easily because I was so hard that however he threw me against the wall, I would rise and continue fighting.

The man's face turned dark; his eyes seemed like a lashing stormy sea of outrage. He was staring at me in a mad manner. He never leave me alone, but sat down on the black bench below the lamppost.

My body stopped for a while; the curse seemed to be thinking of a way to defeat the man. In the few seconds that followed, I felt something was creeping in my veins. Until an incredible thing showed up. My eyes widened, as if they had their own brains too, in seeing that my muscles were slowly turning into bigger ones.Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

My shirt had been torn by the muscles in my arms that wanted to get rid of the congested feelings. The muscles on my body also became bigger. They were the steel-hard muscles I dreamed of having, and I finally had them in a few seconds. There was something bad happening, such as I could not feel even a little bit of pain. The word "uninteresting" seemed uninteresting because it might have favored me if I could not feel pain. I mistook it for something more important, for it had a great effect on me if I could feel pain. I'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all, because it only meant one thing: the curse was controlling even my feelings and sense of touch. It seemed that it had totally controlled my whole body. I didn't know what would happen to me if the curse entered my brain. For sure, my whole life would be destroyed because of it.

The man was also appalled when he saw my appearance was changing into a strong man. Who would not be surprised if your body or muscles suddenly loomed bigger? I was then bigger, stronger, and weightier than he was. He would no longer be able to carry me; instead, my body would be the one to carry and throw him into the outer space.

After a few seconds, he tried to elude from me. Perhaps he was scared that I might break his bones. However, he had not escaped from my hands when they caught his legs. They slung him across the air and threw him towards the hard corners of the house. Perhaps I was lucky that nobody saw what I was doing. I also noticed there wasn't even a little noise from the house. Perhaps there was nobody inside.

I was lucky. I could still hear or that the curse had not yet controlled my sense of hearing. It would be very uncomfortable if even my ears were affected by the curse, because they were very important to me.

The man had been growling in pain when he slipped from my hands. They carried him again and threw him on the hard ground. His gurgles became louder; it showed that he was really feeling pain. Though it was very noisy there, nobody was coming, and it was preferred for me because if nobody could see me, I would be safer.

After many times, my hands threw him to the post, there was no way to say he was breathing. Perhaps his bones have been broken. Though he looked so pitiable, there was nothing I could do about it but hope that he might forgive me. The serial killer was my body, and I wanted to make myself believe I was innocent.

My feet walked towards the porch and continued to the house's door. I didn't know what kind of people were living there because I noticed that everything around was painted black. My hand knocked on the door many times, but there was nobody there to open it. There was no one inside, or if there was, they were probably in a deep slumber because the moon was close to the center of the sky.

Everyone might be sleeping because all the houses were dark and there was not even a single lamppost. I could only hear the chattering of the crickets, which could not be predicted if I were where they were. The traffic on the street was also lightened, and the light from the cars had disappeared and turned into a wide, dark highway.

The dead man was lying there on the lawn. He was full of bruises. I was always reminding myself that everything that happened and would happen wasn't my mistake, but of my body, of the curse, of the old man, of the victims, of everything that could be blamed.