Young Writers Society

My head pounded as I slowly opened my eyes, the dim light still causing a sharp jolt of pain to shoot through my head. The walls around me seemed to spin as I propped myself up on my hand, sharp pains shooting through my battered body. 

Wait, walls?

I did a double take, my head still churning as I looked around again. The reality that I was done that seemingly endless journey in my cart sank in and I just sat there, staring at the ground, dumbfounded. It was so close now; it just didn’t seem real. I mean, I could already have been sold for all I knew. In the cart, everyday was a constant monotony of the beating sun, my stomach’s gripping pains, and the steady rattle of the cart’s wheels. I knew what would happen in my life.

I wasn’t ready to be sold. To start a new life under the thumb of some person I had never met. To cater to their every wish and command or risk death. I angrily punched the floor and then swore as the hard stone met my soft knuckles. Examining my hand, I saw that it was red and filled with the grit that carpeted the floor. I slowly curled back into a ball, my head still viciously pounding and my other arm throbbing, the finger shaped black and purple marks on it making me sick whenever I looked at it. The rest of my body demanded my attention too, various gashes and bruises that must have come from my beating. I hoped desperately that I had at least scarred his face with my fingernails. It was the least he deserved. I slowly reached up and felt my head with tentative fingers, probing for the wounds up there. To my surprise there was only one that seemed major, a large gash, already crusted over with dried blood. I couldn’t do anything about it right now, so I crawled over to the wall and curled up next to it, the pain from my wounds making me dizzy.

***

I sneezed as my cat, Sami, crawled over my face and started nipping my nose. “Stop it, Sami.” I giggled, her hairless tail tickling my neck. Her hairless tail?

I opened my eyes to the sharp yellow incisors of a rat in front of my nose! I flung it away, shrieking as it gave a sickening thud against the wall. The rat twitched once and then lay still, its beady red eyes watching every move I made. “Oh gods, oh gods!” I hyperventilated, feeling my face all over, ignoring the pain that protested every move I made. I needed to make sure the rat hadn’t done anything to me, hadn’t eaten me. When I closed my eyes, even for only a second, I could see its claws tearing at my face, its dirty teeth digging into my flesh. I shuddered and brushed my face again. 

“Okay Laela, sleep standing up from now on.” I thought to myself as I glanced around to see if there were any more rats lurking in the corner of the room.

Thankfully, my cell was completely empty, with no other living thing in sight. I walked to the barred iron door and sagged against it, staring out into a grey corridor. What was I supposed to do now? My head just felt so tired, even though I had been doing nothing but sleeping. Sitting down again, I stared blankly at a wall, memorizing all of the cracks and stains for lack of anything better to do.

***

The scrape of the metal bowl sliding into my cell caused me to scramble over, my mind preoccupied with the thought of food. The grey porridge inside the bowl looked the same as it had for the past two weeks, but to my aching stomach, it seemed heavenly. I crammed fistfuls of food into my mouth, not caring about the taste or the grittiness.

All too soon, the bowl was empty, and I slid it out of my cell. I had learned this the hard way, for if I didn’t, the rats soon came.

I curled up again in my usual ball, trying to fall asleep again. I had learned that was the best way to pass the time. In sleep, what my body felt didn’t matter, and time passed so effortlessly that sometimes when I awoke, a new food bowl would be siting there. I had plenty of time to come to grips with my new life, but I couldn’t help but wonder why I was all alone in this cell. Had the slavers forgotten about me? Was this some kind of torture to break my mind? Surely it couldn’t be just to imprison me, there was plenty of room for the other slaves. 

A metal door clanged shut somewhere outside of my cell and two pairs of heavy footsteps marched towards the direction of my door. I sat up, ears perked, as they stopped in front of my cell. The jingling of keys and the scraping of the lock proved that I was going to see another human being for the first time in weeks. I smiled widely, then almost immediately turned it into a frown. They must have come here for something. 

I stared at my fingers, turning them over and over as the door slowly swung open. “Act calm Laela.” I told myself “They’re not going to let you out if you seem too eager.”

As the two men walked in, I looked up, my eyes skimming over the guard’s scuffed boots and the other’s man’s shiny black leather ones. The guard was dressed in a sloppy put on uniform, his shirt partly torn near the bottom, with a few stains spotting the upper part. The other man seemed to have impeccable taste, although his clothes were traveling ones, not the suits you would normally see on rich folk. His graying hair was well brushed, and he wore a disgusted expression when he glanced at me.

“So.” he spoke. “This is the same one?”

“Yes sir! She’s the one who was given to us,” the guard answered, with a deferential tone in his voice. “She was bruised black and blue when they brought her in, and I followed orders making sure she’s been in solitary confinement for three weeks.”

Three weeks! I jerked my head back, almost hitting the wall. I had counted every meal carefully. I had been in here two weeks at the most.

“Aha! So she is alive! I was beginning to wonder if you weren’t dead.”

The well dressed man crossed forward until he was in front of me.

“Come on. Up! Up!” he commanded, snapping his fingers roughly as if I was a dog.

I got to my feet in a daze, my mind still whirling with the fact that I had been kept in here for almost a month. Counting the days was my only link to the outside, it was what had kept me partially sane all this time. To find out that I had been wrong all this time, it almost shattered my resolve.

The man interrupted my musings by reaching out and grabbing my chin in his hand. I tried to jerk away, startled, but the man tightened his grip until my jaw ached with the pressure he was putting on it.

“Stop!” I tried to croak, my voice rusty with disuse. He ignored my pleas and closely examined my face.

“Well, I have no idea what he saw in her, but he’s never been wrong before. I’ll take her, I guess. Get her ready for travel as soon as possible.”

He took a cloth from his pocket and vigorously scrubbed his hands with it, as if I was a leper. Turning on his heel, he motioned impatiently to the guard and strode out of the room, leaving us in his wake. The guard and I stared after him for a few seconds.

He radiated confidence; the mindset of a man who had always been assured of his worth. There was something almost bewitching about his presence. I had found myself almost leaning towards him once as he talked.

Regaining my senses, I snapped out of my almost trance and dashed towards the still open door, my mind fixed only on one half-formed thought.

Escape!