They say that I am a sin. I do not know what a sin is, but I think that it is bad because it always comes with a strike across my face. But that was before they put me in this hole. I've grown taller since they put me in here. I know that because I used to be able to stand with my body stooped over and my shoulder blades pressed against the locked, iron door that is my roof. Now I can only sit hugging my knees against my chest because there is no room to stretch my legs. I think I will die here.

Thirty-one days have passed since they closed that door above my head. I know this because there is a ray of light that filters from the ceiling of the room outside and then through the locked door above my head and then into my cell. It visits me every morning and leaves me every night. I remember when my father taught me how to count. He took me into the forest and we counted each stone touched by our feet as we hopped across the river. Then he picked a flower that grew by the shore and we counted its petals. That night we lay on our backs in the grass looking up at the sky, and I asked him if we could count the stars. We counted a very long time, but I don't remember how high we got because my eyes grew heavy and I fell asleep.

I can't remember my father's face anymore. I never knew my mother, but I know that knew my father because I have memories of him. But the memories are like that ray of light that keeps me company until night and no matter how hard I try, I can't stop them from fading away.

What I do remember are feelings. I know that I loved my father. I know that I was scared as I hid behind that bush watching him and the other people from our tribe fight those strange people they called Romans. I know that I was sad when I watched him die. But now I sit here in my cell, nothing more than a four-foot pit, and I don't feel anything anymore.

Maybe I am grateful that they abandoned me in this hole. I do not know who "they" are, but I know that they wore brown robes and spoke in a strange language. When they first brought me here, they took me to a dark, cold room with machines that looked like giants lurking in the shadows. I did not know what they were there for or what they did except that whenever I heard the cranking and the grinding of those machines, I also heard the sounds of people shrieking in terror. Sometimes I think I can still hear them screaming.

The men in brown robes set me down next to those machines and stared at me. They kept asking over and over again,"Te paeitet ex toto corde offendisse?"

And I said, "I don't understand."

They struck me across my face and asked louder, "Te paeitet ex toto corde offendisse?"

And I said again, "I don't understand."

So once again, they struck me across my face, "Te paeitet ex toto corde offendisse?"

"Please! I don't understand!"

The sound of the palm against my cheek echoed into the darkness, "Te paeitet ex toto corde offendisse?"

I felt the tears swell in my eyes, "I don't understand!"

That was when they broke my arm. Then they spat on me and said in my own language, "You are a sin!"

I don't know why, but when they said that, I remembered when my father told me that we can imagine ourselves as anything we want to be and it would become the truth if we believed it hard enough and long enough. I could be a horse or a fish, a great warrior or a wise sage. When he told me this, I was so excited. It was like magic! Now I was afraid. I was afraid because if these strange men believed it hard enough and long enough, maybe I really would become a sin.

That was when I decided to become a bear, or maybe I decided that after they threw me in this pit. I don't remember, but it doesn't matter because I decided to believe with every ounce of my being that I was a bear. I sat in my hole and closed my eyes tight, "I'm a bear. I'm a bear. I'm a bear." I imagined that my teeth grew into long, sharp fangs and that claws grew from my fingertips. Thick, black hair covered my body, and I grew big! I grew so big with bulging bear muscles that I broke through the stones and the locked door of my tiny cell. I roared my ferocious bear growl and thundered out of this underground prison into the open air.

I was free! I raced into the forest to the river, hopping across the stones on my brawny bear legs. "One! Two! Three! Four!" I counted the stones like my father had taught me. "Look at me, father! I escaped! I am safe! You don't have to worry anymore father! I am a bear now and no one can hurt me!"

But then I opened my eyes, and everything was dark around me except that little ray of sunlight. It is only a tiny speck of day and maybe it would not mean much to you, but it is everything to me because they cannot take it away. They cannot stop it from coming every morning. They cannot blow out the sunlight like a candle. They can take my life, but after I am gone, there will still be that little ray of light.

They are coming to kill me now. I know this because in that light I can see the outline of my hand, and it is still the hand of a boy, not the paw of a bear. So I suppose this means that I am a sin and they will kill me. I know this because a moment ago I heard them murmuring, "In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen." But now they are interrupted and I hear the pounding of footsteps coming closer and closer. And I know my life is over.

I am staring at that ray of light, my ray of light, and I am waiting for them. I hear a screech above my head and I look up. The tiny light is now a larger, brighter light. I see two arms and they are encompassing me. I don't fight. I know that I am not a bear. I know that I am about to die. And that's okay, I guess, because at least the light will not die, at least that much will survive.

But then I hear a voice.

"You must not fear me."

And I don't.