When is it okay to kill someone, Dad? I hope you know the answer to that, because we never talked about it in training. I guess I should tell you why I’m asking.

You should have been there, Dad. It was incredible. After two days of travel I finally found a slave camp. It was pretty hard to get anyone to talk about it. I found a new use for my abilities, though: I can be very convincing. And I actually happened to run into a group of new recruits.

Dad, I’m convinced more than ever how evil human-trafficking is after watching poor people tied to yolks being forced to walk into the hell that would have been the rest of their lives.

The men that were dragging the new slaves into the camp had guns, which I told you I should have practiced with. At first I was so scared. I was hiding in the bushes following the new recruits and then we were at the perfect spot for an ambush. I froze when I saw their guns.

In the end I think it worked out for the better, as if it was my plan all along. I got captured and was a slave for a few days. Don’t worry, Dad, I’m all right. I wasn’t treated well, obviously, but no permanent damage. Only an even stronger hatred for this business.

When I started the ambush there were several guns pointed at me in seconds and I froze. I wasn’t sure if I could stop a bullet with my mind despite the long hours you and I trained. To be honest I was terrified when I saw their faces.

Luckily they decided not to kill me and instead hooked me up to one of the yolks and marched me into camp. At one point they had me kneeling in front of the leader, and he was all staring me down. It was then that my resolve grew a ton. When he was trying to make me feel inferior with his eyes, all I could think of was what I was about to do to his whole slave camp.

I smiled at him.

It was the sweetest moment of personal triumph I’ve ever experienced, Dad. In spite of the fear and the horrid situation I was about to be in, I smiled and strengthened my resolve to do the impossible.

It was so funny because he just looked at me kinda confused and told his thugs to put me with the rest of them. You could tell he was kinda scared and confused. It was awesome.

I didn’t get to see any of the other slaves’ faces, but I bet they were disappointed. They probably had a glimmer of hope when they heard or saw me emerge from the bushes to save them, but only to have that hope dashed to pieces when I froze and went down without a fight.

The first night’s sleep was not good. Dad, the conditions are terrible and people have to live their whole life like that. And it’s not because they are poor or stupid or lazy. They just gotta live like that because of some evil men. And it really is evil. I could see it in their eyes.

This particular slave labor camp was a mine and we had to dig some friggin rocks all day with so little food. My stomach was dying by dinnertime — which was very disappointing — and I thought I was going to collapse at every step. After dinner we worked until it was too dark to see and it was like hard not to stub your toes on the way back to our poor excuses for tents.

With so many people jammed together, it wasn’t easy to sleep. You can’t get comfortable. I imagine the poor people there get used to no sense of privacy and no personal space, but it was gross.

So after like 3 days of this torture, I finally got the piece of information that I needed to know before I started shaking things up. It was hard to get people to talk. Either most don’t know anything about their captors or don’t want to risk being caught. I can understand, though. If it weren’t for my telekinesis, I wouldn’t dare mess with them either.

What I learned was that the head honcho — no one knew his name — lived in a comfortable house on the north side of the mine just over a hill. There were a few houses there and the one in the middle — the biggest — was the leader’s. He didn’t even let the slaves see his house.

On the next morning I decided to let them have it. I was so excited to get out of these horrible conditions, and so angry with my captors. Also, I couldn’t wait to see the slaves’ faces when they were free.

But I was terrified, too. This was it. The moment of truth had arrived, and now I needed to be the hero that I came here to be. After breakfast the next morning, as our guard was prodding us to the mine with his pistol and gruff voice, I refused to go.

He got up in my face and waved his pistol in the air. The other slaves were shocked and some even tried to pull me along. I calmly stood up and pushed the guard onto the ground mentally. He got up, shocked beyond belief, and aimed the gun at me. I forcefully took it from him and floated it into the hands of one of my work buddies. Everyone was totally quiet.

And then I did the coolest thing. I picked him up and threw him down the hill towards the mine. Everyone in my group cheered. It was great, Dad. A very happy moment, for sure.

But other slaves and slave drivers wanted to know what the cheering was about, of course. Slave drivers moved in with guns and we made progress by taking their guns and giving them to the slaves. But that meant that more and more joyful cheering erupted and more and more guards came to stop it.

Before we knew it we saw men running up over the hill on the north side of the mine. We had awakened the bosses. But to my horror, they didn’t have pistols like the small-time guards. These guns had assault rifles. The first thing they did was fire into the air, which silenced everyone so quickly I couldn’t believe it. They shouted for everyone to get back to work or they would start shooting “workers.”

Can you believe that’s what these poor slaves were called? They were put on the same level as someone who voluntarily works for compensation so the bosses could feel better about what they did.

That just made me really mad. I picked the one closest to me — a few hundred yards away up the hill — and I tried to take his gun out of his hands. I failed. I guess he had a pretty good grip on it. The other guys on the hill were confused, so they didn’t start shooting. This gave me a chance to try again.

I had to put my whole force into ripping the gun out of his hands, so I’m sure I stuck out in the crowd. I was the only one moving. But it worked, and even better than I’d hoped; the guy went rolling down the hill!

But since I was the only one moving in the crowd and one of the head guys was rolling to his death, the other ones on the hill started to open fire. At me! But can you believe them! They would have slaughtered the whole slave camp if it weren’t for me — actually because of me.

All that training in the batting cages was about to be put to the test, Dad. Remember how I got pretty good at stopping 104 mph fast balls without flinching? That’s nothing compared to stopping a bullet. I imagine it’s easier from a pistol, but I never got a chance to practice with one of those before I had to learn to stop semi-automatic weapons.

I didn’t hesitate, which I’m pretty proud of, although I didn’t have much of a choice because most of the gunfire was aimed in my direction. With that many bullets at once you can’t stop individual bullets, so I just kinda thought of a force shield or like a line that the bullets couldn’t cross. It was pretty strenuous because I could feel the extreme force of momentum that each round had against my will power.

I was powerless to attack. I could only defend and I would have been there defending until I broke or they ran out of ammo. I think I woulda broken first to be honest. Lucky for me, the slaves with guns fired back.

They didn’t start firing immediately. When the men on the hill opened fired everyone ran and ducked for cover, but as they saw what I was doing, they took courage and stood up, proudly, defiantly. We were making a statement against all human-trafficking in that moment, Dad. It was inspiring.

Seconds later, those with guns fired back at their captors and we were all but free. I told everyone to run, get out of the camp. It was chaos. I could barely make my way towards the hill with the ocean-like waves of people scampering past me.

Some shouted thanks, most just ran for their lives. I didn’t blame them. Not to sound prideful or anything, but I didn’t need their thanks. Most of them probably don’t know how we overpowered their captors and never will. Either way, just knowing that they and their families will be together once again is all I need to continue this fight. Hundreds of families were saved that day, maybe a thousand or more.

When I got to the top of the hill, there were only a few more guards to take care of. They were running around like chickens without heads. There was no way they could stop so many slaves now that they had tasted freedom and some had weapons and had used them against the evils that bound them. They were courageous and willing to die which is more than I can say about the guards that were left.

I used the last of the guards as tests to see how to best use my telekinesis to disarm and disable my enemies. This was so fun. Although, now that I look back at it, I’m glad I left them alive. Even though the things they were doing is evil, who knows how much freedom they themselves had? Were they slaves in another way? And besides, they have families that will miss them, too.

It always scary, though, to leave an enemy alive, because he can find another weapon and come back to get you when its most inconvenient to you. I took that risk and made my way through the center house where the man in charge was hiding somewhere.

Before I entered the room where he was, I stayed outside and listened to his phone conversation. He was terrified. He was talking to his boss and telling him that he needed immediate help. His voice wavered like he knew he would die because of his failure.

I was frustrated. I thought that this slave camp would be independent of others. I had no idea that there was a hierarchy with a mob boss. Instead of taking them out one by one and stopping evil men, I suddenly was hit with the fact that individual slave labor camps would only be puppets until I found the puppet master and his main hideout.

It wasn’t a failure what I had just done, but it sure felt like it in that moment. Instead of enjoying my power of this puppet of a head honcho, I quickly got what I could out of him while putting the fear of God into him. I told him I was sent by his boss and because of his state of fear, he believed me.

This man I did not leave alive. That is the reason for the first question of my letter, Father. I took this man’s life and it was one of the hardest decisions I have had to make. I did not do it out of anger or passion. I thought about it and deliberated over it. I decided that this man’s death would save thousands of other family’s lives. Please give me your opinion about this. Did I do the right thing?

It is over now and I’m gathering information about the next slave labor camp. It will be a long fight, but Dad I’m going to win the war. I hope you are proud of me. I know you and Mom were scared, but tell her that I am okay and tell her about the children that can now go home to their mothers. Tell her that I love her and I’ll be home someday.