A Slave Boy

Lloyd’s P.O.V.

I walked towards my new boarding school, with my heart feeling heavier every second. I missed my mom. I looked back, hoping to catch a glimpse of her or our beat-up van. She was gone. There wasn’t even a trace of her. I felt my heart plummet into my stomach.

All of a sudden, I felt a pair of hands grab me from behind. I struggled a little bit as the people behind me turned me to face a tall black figure. It was obvious that he was the leader. He approached me, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look him in the face. ¨The son of Lord Garmadon ought to make a very fine slave. What do you think, boys?¨ The leader asked, and the people holding me only laughed as a response.

The leader started inspecting me closely, doing strange things like looking at my teeth or smelling my armpits. He started muttering to himself and I started listening. ¨He’s got a good bone structure. His green eyes may be a problem. We’ll have to get him a pair of brown contact lenses. He won’t smell bad if he’s hot and sweaty, and he’s at the perfect age to be trained as a slave.¨ The two guys behind me tied my arms together behind my back and made me start walking.

I don’t know the distance we walked, or for how long we walked. But I do know that it made me very hungry, thirsty, and very tired afterward. I was sure a few ribs were showing through my skin, and I was starting to feel light-headed pretty badly. I didn’t have time to rest, though. They then slapped a number on me and shoved me into a line with other boys my age. (I was 4 or 5) A lot of people looked over me, saying compliments left and right. I was then shoved onto a platform, and I basically just ignored what was going on.

Eventually, I heard the word I was looking for. ¨Sold!¨ They rang out, and I immediately started looking for my ¨owner.¨

My owner was a fat, grubby man who had a messy beard and fiery gray eyes that could make the bravest man back down in fear. He wore a very dirty apron and always had a whip in his belt, as I soon discovered. The slave driver threw me into the back of his wagon like I was trash. Then, I went away, never to be seen by anyone ever again.

When we got to my new home, my master immediately handed me off to two of his workers and disappeared. The two workers took me to a private room and undressed me. ¨W-What are y-you going to d-do?¨ I asked them, very scared. They stayed silent.

All of a sudden, one of the men restrained me and the other one got a razor and shaved off all of my golden blond hair. They then sewed my lips together, so I would never be able to speak again. They finally dressed me in an oversized old hoodie and oversized pair of jeans. They then taught me sign language and Morse code so I could communicate. Then, I was sent to my master's house, never to be free again.

I woke up, drenched in sweat. I started shivering in the cold morning air. I huddled and brought my tattered clothes closer to me, even though it didn’t help. I heard a rooster crow in the distance, and that meant I needed to get up. I tried to stand up, only to cry out in pain and fall back to the ground. My legs were in pain from pushing the grain grinder all day yesterday, and I had received a particularly bad beating from my master last night.

I finally forced myself up and ignored the pain, focusing on making sure I was pleasing to my master for the rest of the week. So much for a happy anniversary, I thought to myself. It would be 10 years ago today that I was sold into slavery.

I eventually got to the grinding wheel, though I was slower than normal. I started pushing slowly at first, then I started running, making the wheel turn faster and faster. My body started hurting more and more until it was unbearable. I stopped and checked to see how much wheat I had ground. I was shocked to see I was above and beyond the daily quota. I smiled to myself. This would be extra pleasing to my master.

I bagged up the grain and finished my smaller chores, such as gathering the eggs, milking the cows, or sweeping the front porch. I went inside my master's house, making sure to leave my boots outside because it pleased my master when he didn’t have to remind me.

I walked into the kitchen, where my master was sitting at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper and drinking his coffee, as he usually did. Upon entering the room, he glanced up from his newspaper. He folded up his newspaper and placed it on the table neatly, looking at me with that horrible grin of his.

¨Hello, my slave.¨ He said smoothly. I gave him a curt nod, but inside I was boiling. He has no right to call me that! I angrily told myself. But he does, I told myself. He bought you, fair and square.

¨Did you know it’s the tenth anniversary of when I bought you?¨ He asked me. I shook my head no, the only safe answer. ¨That is why I got you a present,¨ He continued, not even acknowledging that I had responded. I raised my eyebrow at him. What does he mean, present?

He handed me a set of new clothes. I was happy that he gave me new clothes because my old ones were getting too small and holey. But I knew there was a catch. There always was.

¨Oh, and by the way...¨ He added before I left the room. ¨To celebrate, I invited a few of my friends over for a party. I expect the food to be prepared and the house to be spotless when I return.¨ He said, and left.

So THIS is what the catch is. I went to a closet, grabbed some cleaning supplies, and immediately got to work.

1091 Words

- The Different Ninja -