Subject 35772

The man sat in front of the massive screen, notepad and pen in hand. Clean cut, his suit bore the markings of a middle class working type. He’d clearly done this before with the casual way he sat, legs propped up against the chair in front of him. Casual or not, his eyes attentively watched the scenes playing out before him on the widescreen. Carefully and strategically—a master at his craft—he planned.

The subject in front of him—Subject Number 35772—was the average sort in terms of IQ and talent. At first glance, nothing extraordinary and certainly nothing to be reckoned with. But the movie he sat watching told him something completely different. This average, mediocre, untalented sot could singlehandedly change the course of thousands upon thousands of lives if he didn’t do something about it. He watched as 35772’s dreams exploded, causing a ripple effect on everyone around them. 35772’s legacy impacted generations upon generations—there was nothing mediocre or average about who 35772 became or the difference they made.

“Well, not on my watch.” he thought to himself. Thus he flipped open his notebook and strategized, followed by a quick perusal of all the tools in his toolbox. Eyes gleaming, he fingered the tools one at a time. He’d done this enough times to know the most effective times and ways to intervene in a subject’s life and how best to squash the horror he’d just witnessed on the big screen.

35772 needed extra care. So he began before birth. The shock of an unexpected pregnancy caused the first rifts. The emotions of terror and fear rippled into the womb, a tiny seed of what would become a very very large source of pain: rejection. He didn’t waste any time after the subject was born, either. An inquisitive child, this curiosity caused no source of irritation to the adults in 35772’s life. “Be quiet.” “Don’t get into that!” “I thought I told you, ‘no!’” Teachers also contributed with their subtle eye rolls, frustrations, and favoritism. But adults were simply a few pawns in his game.

Peers provided even more fun.

“You’re weird.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“You like that?!”
“You look funny. Dress funny. Act funny. Talk funny.”

From test scores to after school activities; from unsafe situations to well-meaning (and not well-meaning) adults; from bullies to backstabbing best friends; from acne to failed teenage romance, he used it all. The assaults continued from childhood well into the teenage years and beyond. Intimidation, comparison, discouragement, nonverbal and verbal rejection. So much rejection.

All the while, he coaxed 35772 into crafting a story of failure, rejection, and inadequacy. Not everything he threw at 35772 hit its mark. Some missed entirely, some got brushed off, but some some landed square in the chest. And slowly 35772 grew less curious, less inquisitive, less loud, less everything. 35772 stopped speaking up, stopped having opinions (or too loudly had the wrong ones), and stopped caring. 35772 settled for just scraping by (after all, they were of average IQ and mediocre talent), this was their lot.

A Job Well Done

Gloating, the man sat back, incredibly satisfied with himself. There comes a point when—after doing years of work—the subjects continued without his help. Having done this as many times as he had, the man knew that they would keep replaying the stories he’d helped them craft. He watched the screen again and laughed. “Destiny? Legacy? Not happening. My job here is done.” Oh sure, 35772 would need some maintenance, but the rest of it would be a cake walk after everything he’d done. Watching 35772’s deflated spirit and downtrodden shoulders, he felt the rush of pride at a job well done.

Another Point of View

However, across the galaxies another screen played. Equally as massive, but from a different perspective. Here 35772 was not marked with a number but a name. A treasured, cherished, and beautiful name. No person in the galaxy had ever been given the same name.

The name on this screen was as unique as the DNA strands running through their veins. But the name was as secret—a glorious treasure known in full only to the person who bore it and the one who watched over it. Here, 35772’s name was spoken with reverence and awe—a name meaning, “Chosen One.” Another figure sat watching the screen, ethereal and light. As she watched she grew excited, for every single thing the man had done to silence the Chosen One became an opportunity. A spectacular opportunity! While the suited man looked away, the ethereal figure got to work. As the screen played, she took each discouragement, each accusation, each point of pain and turned it into a catalyst for the Chosen One to thrive. The very things meant to destroy the Chosen One were the things that launched them into their destiny.

Every accusation intended to cripple revealed strength.
Every moment of intimidation showed the power of running at fear.
Every attempt to silence brought about the power of speaking up.
Every rejection taught how to accept.

Surprise, Surprise

When the man returned from his brief coffee break, his eyes grew wide in shock at the 35772’s growth. His plan had backfired. Realizing his error, he frantically began throwing more and more fear and intimidation and terror at his subject. But they simply didn’t land. Instead, every single one became a stepping stone and a launching pad into the Chosen One’s destiny. He looked at 35772’s face and saw overwhelming strength. And laughter–pure, unadulterated joy.

For the first time in his career of breaking subjects, he had failed. The Chosen One had grown stronger and braver and more beautiful because of him, because of his attempts to destroy. And the ethereal figure smiled, for she knew this outcome from the beginning.

What’s Your Story?

And perhaps, just perhaps, the things intended to break you cannot break you at all. Instead, they are the very catalysts that can launch you into the destiny that’s been yours all along.