Becoming Free Indeed Romane & Geschichten

Becoming it. Theirs. completely.

"I want to believe that." "Then start by acting like you believe it. Even if you don't. Act like you're free. Act like you have choice. Act like you matter. Eventually the acting becomes real. Becomes true. That's how it worked for me. How it still works for me. Some days I have to remind myself I'm not cursed. Not broken. Not worthless. But reminding helps. Acting helps. Choosing helps. Every day. Every moment. Choose yourself. Choose freedom. Choose—life."

The way he looked at Charlie was full of disappointment, as if he were the one being abandoned. Megan's eyes were full of tears. She broke free from Jamie and grabbed my hands. "Ida, I really love Charlie! Please set him free and let us be together, okay? I swear I'll treat Nigel well. I'll never have children of my own! I'll treat Nigel like my own son!" I stood there like some unforgivable villainess. But… I wanted the divorce, too! I did not want to dig into what had happened during that one short month as I straightened up and looked at Charlie. "Charlie, if you won't finalize the divorce with me, I'll file it on my own."

How can they really believe all this crap? "This is crazy," I say again to convince them not to listen, and Ms. Cummings has the audacity to sigh at me like I am the crazy one. "Signing these papers saves you. Believe it or don't believe it. You should sign and find out if I am lying. You won't lose anything if I am lying," she says and my mouth snaps shut. She is right. What do I have to lose? The only thing waiting for me is a lonely death back at the hospital. If this is real... and that is a hard if, I will be liberated from my loneliness. I will be saved and given a new life.

Freeda liked that too. No room had to witness this. No donor had to approve it. No one had to call it stable, symbolic, or healing. It was just breakfast in a home where she had woken without dread sitting on her chest. Every bite of toast and sip of coffee tasted of small freedom. The unremarkable normalcy of it held more weight than any ceremony or dress could ever convey. Scott checked his phone once, frowned, and set it face down. Freeda saw it anyway. “Work.”

So I try to see if I can move any other body part, anything at all. Toes, nope. legs, nope. arms, still nope. Damn it! I'm going to be a fucking vegetable for the rest of my life! That's just fan-diddly-fuckin-tastic. Fingers, nop- wait. Holy shit! I lifted my right index finger! Finally progress! "MILLIE GET IN HERE!" Alpha yells.

But none of it could stir anything inside of me anymore. I was going overseas.

“Eh? No need to bother–” "I insist," the seller insisted. “You have given me good novel recommendations, and I already consider you like my own child. There's no need to hesitate." "Then it can't be helped," Sandra gave in, accepting the seller's gift. “I'll pay–” "This is free. Pro bono, Kid!” "What if I pay half the price..." Sandra didn't dare continue speaking when the seller put her hands on her hips. "Okay, okay. I accept." "That's just the answer I wanted," the seller finally smiled happily, patted Sandra on the shoulder, and rubbed the top of Amelia's head. “I also have to take care of my booth. Happy Sunday!”

Blue pulled a black marker from his bag, uncapped it, and without hesitation, wrote under the message: —AND UNSTOPPABLE. --- 9 That night, lying in bed, I couldn’t stop replaying the week in my head. The assembly had felt like freedom. This felt like the price. Blue texted me: Still worth it. I stared at the words for a long time before typing back: I want to believe that. His reply came seconds later: Then I’ll make sure you do. --- 10 Friday morning, we walked into school hand in hand. Not defiantly. Not as a performance.

She stepped into the room minutes later, eyes lowered, hands folded neatly in front of her apron like she still expected punishment for breathing too loud. “Come in,” I said. “Sit.” Her brows twitched, confused, but she obeyed. “Do you know why you’re here?” I asked. “No, sir.” I didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. “You don’t belong to me,” I said. She looked up sharply. “Sir?” “I’m setting you free.” She blinked. “You…what?” “I’ve transferred a large sum into an account under your name. It’s yours—no strings. If you want to disappear, start over, I won’t stop you.”