If there was a god how could he have done this to us.

There is nothing left for me. Family taken away, worked to death, no faith. I’ve ‘worked’ on this farm, picking cotton for seven years. Friends come and then are sold shortly after. I’ve grown to not become attached to anyone.
“Hey, Mitch!” He hollars. I twist my neck over my shoulder and glare at him.
“Yes, Mr. Burneside?” I yell back, with hatred in my heart welling up as soon as I hear his voice. I drop what I was doing and trudge over to him. He taps his foot anxiously as I walk over.
“What can I help you with, sir?” I say.
“Let’s just say...You’ve been nominated for an experiment…” He replied, uncomfortably.
“W-what kind of experiment?” I stutter.
“You will be shipped off to a government owned ‘research center.’” He says with a shakiness to it. I ponder why he is scared to talk to me, he has the power to kill me if he wants. So why is this ‘experiment’ such a big deal?
“I’m fine.” I reply with confidence.
“What? It is not your decision. Now, come with me before I beat you.” He says, with growing frustration. He shuffles his portly body over to his mansion’s porch. I follow, reluctantly.
“The CCC will ship you over to their headquarters shortly. Stay out here.” He blurts.
“CCC?” I question.
“Center of Combatting Corruption. It is a scientific research center. You will understand later.”
“You...you sold me, didn’t you.” I ask, hesitant for the answer. He stops in his tracks, pauses, and walks into his mansion without a word. I wonder if I will ever return. Will I be dissected? What is happening?!
30 minutes later, an industrial truck pulls up to the house and screeches to a halt. I felt nothing but emptiness and a lack of passion for anything but now....now I’m scared. I’m terrified of the unknown and I never would have guessed I would have this feeling, for, I thought I had seen the worst that life has to offer. And maybe I have and this will not be the end. But a part of me wants to have it all end. A part of me is so fed up and tired of the constant torture that is, living.
Three men in what appears to be SWAT gear pop open the trunk and hop out from its darkness. They make direct eye-contact with me and start walking towards me, aggressively. Next thing I know I am being restrained and some sort of paper towel with a weird, bleach like substance is being held on my mouth and nose. Not knowing its danger, I take a deep breath in and immediately it hits me. I become woozy and my mind feels like it is being taken over by darkness. And every second the darkness takes more control over my mind until I cannot think, and I pass out.
I wake up in a strange room with no recollection of how I got there. It is a mix between the gloominess of a prison cell and the sterility of a surgery room at a hospital.  I am restrained to a bed, with no ability to move. The next second, a large group of doctors enter the room. I take a deep breath and try to relax in this chaos. They replace the bag on the I.V. stand connected to the large vein in my arm. The bag is filled with a white, creamy like fluid. I watch as it slowly reaches my body, and feel as it seeps into my bloodstream. Everything gets blurry, and the next thing I know, I am out cold.
I slowly wake up and sit up. It feels as if I have slept for 100 years, and not in a good way. The grogginess makes it difficult to become aware of my surroundings, but I can tell I am in a prison-like cell. I lay back down for a while until the grogginess fades. I stand up, and walk over to the bars of this cell. I peer out the cell and see hundred just like it, but empty. However, I see an armed guard walking up and down the hall, patrolling. “What did they do to me…” I mutter. I slowly build up a rage I have never felt before. I feel all the anger of my family being taken away to the lack of control in my life all at once. I grip two of the steel bars keeping me from freedom and squeeze them as hard as I can and pull. I have never felt this strength, but I suppose it is the adrenaline. As I try to pry the bars apart, they disappear. Where they once were are an abundance of ‘0’s and ‘1’s that make out the framework of the prison bars that were once there. Five seconds later, they fade out of existence. I stare at my scarred hands with horror. What the f*** did I just do. I am at a loss for words, but all I know is that I am replete with vitality and vigor. I get angry again. Once again I peer out the cell and see the guard fifteen feet away, with his back turned against me. I creep out of the cell where the bars were until he is only ten feet away. I ready my mind for what is about to happen. I bolt towards the guard and grab him by his neck with both hands. I use all of the pain I have ever experienced and transfer it into power and squeeze and pull on his neck. As he clasps at his neck, desperate for air he disappears. And once again where he once was are ‘0’s and ‘1’s. They fade. I feel this new power in me and I know what I must do. “You are next Mr. Burneside…”