16. The stuff of nightmares
The before day you finally were freed, the day they put you in the cart, you remember them gutting one of the new slaves. It was a young human boy who was no older than 13, dealt a shit hand by fate. You remember the guards spilling his blood on the tiles. There was always one with each new batch, to teach the new acquisitions their place, but the river of innocent blood runs through your mind some nights when you close your eyes.
19. Experiencing something new
“Is it safe?” you asked, squinting to try and find the other side of the water. She laughed, her brown hair illuminating with firey tones in the rising sun and simply held out her hand. The water and salt spray from left little beads on your skin. You took her hand, let her lead you into the shallow waves, mesmerized by the heartbeat of the ocean that pulsed past with each crest of water. You marveled at the fact that across this ocean lived people so different from you, in lands that were untouched by sandy wastes and oppressive heat. To your people water was sacred, a gift. There in the ocean you felt as though you were wrapped in the very arms of the gods themselves.