''It is too late,’’ these words rattle around in my skull like a swarm of angry hornets. My face flushes bright scarlet. I


will not let this happen.





''Are you sure there is nothing you can do? Anything. Anything at all; I have a great need for your patronage,’’ I am


determined. My stare is penetrating--I hope.





''I am very sorry. We have tried everything. All the treatment that was administrated has not been successful, again, I



am very sorry. It is too late,'' with a sigh of hopelessness, she slowly closes the door in my face. Tears burn my amber

eyes as they race down my hot cheeks and stain my marigold silk blouse. The stains are permanent, just like my problems. I

reach behind me to grasp a piece of paper that was long ago tucked into my back jean pocket. Memories of the first time I

sought help flood my senses and take over my nervous system.




''Hello, my name is Doctor Emily Gates. I will be seeing to your treatment. I have to tell you, your condition is quite

rare. There is a very strong possibility that you may not be cured. I just need you to sign this contract to release us from any

legal bindings,'' her lips turn up just slightly to make a smile, but the cheer does not make contact with her eyes of gray.

Doctors Gates fingers are pale and worn with use. The bones in her third and first fingers are bowed slightly to the left. I notice

how shaky her hands are as the bond of iron clad is being written. She has much knowledge about the effectives the treatment

that will have on me. She is too apprehensive to tell me.

Until now, my head has been bent towards the earth that is turning upside underneath me. I slowly raise my gaze to see tears imprisoned in her old and broken body.

How I want to comfort her and show her my gift, then I remember why I am in this place.

The smell of ammonia and bleach creep up into my nostrils. No matter how I try not to breathe, the chemicals twist their way into my lungs. My lungs reach for pureness.

The memory of drowning rises to the surface of my wrinkled brain. I can feel the water seeping into my mouth, ears, and nose. The deep is

pulling me down by the ankles and wrapping itself around my calves going to my thighs to pull hard.

''Treatment will be from nine forty-five until noon every other day. I hope that will be suitable for you. Here is an itinerary of what you need to prepare

for in case of the worst,'' a grimace appears on Doctor Gates face. I peek down at the yellowed piece of paper. I pick it up

reluctantly. That is when the first flash hits me: mothers with young children and homeless people with nowhere else to go.

Their only alternative is experimentation. I drop the aged and crinkled paper. A shiver of ice water runs up through my veins

from my toes to the top of my spine.




''I have no family. This will not be necessary, my only observation is that I cannot leave the premise,’’ I can not obey

the hardest of orders.



''Yes, you may not leave if you...have been treated,'' Doctor Gates peers over her thick rimmed glasses at me to



anticipate my answer.



''I have to be able to have admission to literature. I understand the need for my confinement, but I have to have books at

my disposal,'' my eyes are tight and guarded. If she asks questions, I cannot supply any answers. Doctor Gates opens her


white lab coat and reaches into a side pocket. She presents a letter. I impede my reaction, and then finally retrieve the


envelope. I slide the small package into my back jean pocket.

My gift is not to be discovered. My gift is not of skills of the vocal cords or movement of the body, but fantastic control of the mind. Every time my fingers graze

a piece of paper that has been touched or printed upon, I feel that persons pain, joy, and every sensation in between



Gasping, I quickly recoil my chilled phalanges and tuck them gently in my other palm. The old letter I received floats

down on air currents to a place I no longer belong. I have not understood the pain and worry that marked Doctor Gates face,


until now. It was a risk worth taking. The information I have gained was vital to my survival. I almost have completed my


mission--almost.



The wind creeps into my auburn hair and pushes through as hard as it can. The suns rays glittering upon my face,

provide warmth in a way I have not felt in a lifetime. I soak in the vitamin D that has been deprived from my fair complexion. I



liberate a sigh of resolution and a smile slowly glides across my keen lips. I now know what I must do, where I must go. This is

my time. I turn and look across the stone steps down to the street and onward to the field of grass that invites me. My legs are

stiff and swollen from the treatment, but no matter, I move them anyway. I skip down the cracked and old stone steps toward

my freedom. I look gingerly from left to right, and then step eagerly on the brick road. The speed of the wind picks up

immensely, and dishevels my hair covering my vision. A black SUV races toward me at an incredible speed, as if not to stop,

just to pick up. I am stationary. I try to move from my place in the core of the road, but I cannot. The vehicle does not slow


its speed. My mind is racing. How did they find me? I left no trace, I thought. Still the car comes closer just as fast, yet time

seems to stand still. They are traveling at eighty miles per hour no doubt, yet I cannot get away fast enough. The car is not ten

feet from me, the door swings open wildly and a dark gloved hand extends to imprison me.


''Hello, Autumn. Where have you been hiding? I have searched and searched, and now here you are, I have found you,'' his


words sever through whatever happiness I have left. His eyes are shaded with dark glasses, and his voice is painful. The

edge in his vocal cords are much like the sound of metal going through a blender. Restraining myself takes all of my energy, I

slowly slip into a dark pool of nothingness.


''So, how did you find her again?'' The first voice is of a woman. It is light and airy like the wind. This voice I remember all

to well, it sweeps into my subconscious and brings me back to reality. My eyelids flutter open. The room is brightly light with

artificial illumination. My sight is not fully restored yet, which formulate blurry figures.


''I was just tracking her and I got a signal. I was surprised how easy it was to catch the little freak. She froze like a deer in

the headlights,'' The second voice is of a man. Harsh vibes roll off his tongue, a storm in the ocean night crashing into a simple

fishing boat, conquering. I had almost full sight now. My gaze wonders freely trying to grasp where I was exactly. The sounds

and smells seemed familiar, yet the room was not of my memory. I suddenly felt paper slide into my left hand. I took in a sharp

breath. I saw a picture of a girl being tormented. She screamed with agony as the dark figures loomed over her, yelling

questions. I clutch the paper tighter and see that the girl, just a child, is me. I drop the paper as fast as feasible. Only

inches separate it from me. My hands and feet are constricted to a metal table. I can hear in the distance a high-pitched

blood curdling scream. Only until I feel a hand clamp over my mouth do I realize it is me. I am screaming. Yet, it is no use, no

one will hear the S.O.S.; and if they do, they will not stop to help. ''I told you we should've duck taped her,'' The second voice

spoke again, which was the man that captured me. He shoots a quick glare at the woman. Motioning for the tape, she brings it

over. The woman rips a piece off fast and precise. He grabs the piece and rolls his eyes at her, his hand releases my now

quite mouth and replaces the clamp with a sticky paper. I am struggling against my bindings when a third person strolls into the

room.



''I see you had to use the duct tape again.'' With a sigh, the third person leans over me, '' Tsk, tsk. When will you ever

learn, my dear?'' The third figure pats my head and laughs. I yelp underneath my sticky prison. I force my body to wrench

against the cuffs of wire that bind me. I feel a sticky sensation run down my arm. My blood has escaped and flows freely down

my bluish-pale skin. ''I'll check in on her later. Make sure she is watched twenty-four seven. I don't want her to escape like

last time.'' The third person walks out of the room and latches the glass door behind her. Tears torrent down from my hopeless

eyes. I cannot get a break in life. I try to remember how I escaped last time, but that memory is not in my mentality. Come to

think of it, I do not recall my past at all. Fear and confusion fire across my face, I do not even remember how I got here.


''What's the matter, Autumn? Forgetful, are we?'' The man, laughing darkly, shoots a look at the woman. She is not

returning this evil gawk, her head is bent toward the floor.



''I think you can take the tape off now,'' the woman’s voice is full of regret and remorse. After many moments, she walks

over and eliminates it herself with no hardship. I move my mouth to exercise away the stiffness that has come from the tape.


''If she screams again, you are dealing with it, I'm going to set up her cell...I mean, room,'' His smile is anything but

pleasurable. The way the corners of his mouth twist up are disturbing and cruel. He backs out of the small lab room

slowly. I am not able to see, but I hear him pick up a set of keys and jingle them. Chuckling darkly, he opens the glass door and

seals it firmly. His footsteps are audible until he turns the corner and disappears. So, I am not in the same building as before.

The other building was all straight, no turns. I quickly file that away in my head for further notation.


''Don't speak, just listen.'' The woman's voice is low, her head bent toward me. Her eyes are studying my slashed wrists, caring to

my severe wounds. ‘’I am going to get you out of here. This is what you have to do: when I cut your binding run as fast as you can.

I have had a long enough life, but you have so much more to learn. You have to take three turns to the right and four

to the left. Don’t forget. It is vital to your survival,’’ she glances up at the ceiling discreetly, searching for cameras. ‘’Okay, on three:

one, two, THREE!’’ She slices through the wired prison swiftly. The sirens start to scream so loud it pierces through my ear drums.

I bolt to the door and get out quietly. I see guards coming, I swiftly take my three rights and fours lefts. I am home free, almost. I feel

a sudden blow come to my head and I am out, eternally.



I feel a soft presence come upon me. ‘’My dear child, I finally meet you.’’ A soft fatherly voice greets me. ‘’You know, when I

created you, it was a hard choice to make. I was certain of your purpose and you have served it well.’’ I glance up to see a man in white

robes with a white beard; kind and sparkling eyes.



‘’Where am I?’’ I ask. It is obvious. Yet, I cannot tell if I am dreaming or if this perfect place is real.




‘’You are finally with your father.’’ He answers with resolution. I can only gape at him with wide eyes. ‘’I have to reassure you


that your earthly mother and father are near by, as well as Mrs. Kindle.’’ So that is the woman’s name who was in the lab. ‘’I can understand


that this is overwhelming to you. Take it all in, and when you are ready, ask me anything.’’ He retreats to his throne on top a mountain of


clouds.




‘’Oh, and don’t worry about the no breathing thing, you’ll get used to it,’’ he adds this little bit of information with a chuckle. I cannot move.


I am in heaven? How can this be? I thought I had escaped the institution, yet here I am. But that means that the woman, Mrs. Kindle, died also.


She sacrificed herself for me even though she knew she would not survive. I feel as if a tear is rolling down my check, but when I try to


wipe it away, there is nothing there. I am frozen with grief, confusion and yet happiness was pushing through the other emotions. ‘’Here


take this and understand with gift I gave you.’’ He is suddenly right next to me and holding a small black book out to me. I take it slowly.


When my hand touches this little book, my body crumples onto the billowy ground. A series of images go through my cerebral cortex: my


mother and fathers faces, glowing while holding there new born. The next image is painful, my mother is weeping while my father is nodding


his head and says thank you anyways to the doctors. I have died only days after birth. Then my parents disappear from the memories that have been set


before me. The next sweep by quickly; I was stolen at the hospital while in the neonatal ward after my alleged death. The institution found


me and took me away. They were abusing my gift. I kept getting excruciating headaches. The institution gave me tonic after tonic, nothing


helped. I planned my escape and followed through. I was there for three hundred-forty months and one day. I ran as fast my body could


and ended up at the New York Cancer Treatment Center of America. I was there for three months and one day. They could not cure my


headaches, which were growing worse. Finally Dr. Gates sent me away; I could tell how hard it was for her. She felt bad for there was


nothing she could do. I then got an inspiration that if I could find my birth parents then they would be able to help me. I was crossing the


street when the Intuition found me and took me back. I had a chip planted in my left hand when I first came to that awful place. My mind


flashed to Mrs. Kindle’s face. She was a kind and good person. I now know that she was only at that awful place to help. I now learned she


had done it before. I also learned if she did it again, she would be executed. They found her and dragged her into the execution room. I felt


the needle be injecting into her arm and her soul slowly raise to where she is now in front of me with a smile radiating from her spirit.



I dropped the book. My soul is weary. But I now can see why I had all the pain and hurt in my life; the suffering is

to make you stronger and able to carry more for others who cannot. I made Doctor Gates stronger, which was my

mission. After I left the treatment center, Doctor Gates was drained. She was planning on giving it all up. I gave her a

letter of my own with a part of my gift carefully placed inside. This letter explained all; this was my gift to her. She now can

go on helping others much like me. My task is now complete. I look up and see a group of people in front of me. My

birth parents, Mrs. Kindle, my heavenly father, and they are all glazing upon me with love.



‘’Now, you know your purpose and you can spend eternity with all those who love you to the depths of the ocean

and beyond.’’