Rose

“Piku,” shouted the fat overseer.

“Yes, sir,” answered Piku, who was sitting under the wooden loom.

“Go get me some water”

Piku stood up when the wooden loom of the spinning mule moved backward with a clack, and he could finally stand up.

He walks past children like him working endlessly, the mill’s air was filled with the smell of petrol and cotton particles.

Children of Piku’s age were running down the loom when it moved forward and wove a thread, then the machine moved backward, and this cycle continued.

Piku went outside to fetch the water.

10 minutes passed… no sign of his return.

The overseer became impatient and angry, turning his face crimson.

He grabbed his wooden stick and went outside, but near the drinking fountain, there was no sign of a human being; the glass was sitting there untouched.

“That brat, he never learns,” shouted the overseer.

…

Piku ran, ran as fast as he could.

Due to the hot weather, his head was spinning, and his vision was blurring.

But this was his last chance; he could not miss this if he stayed in that mill for one more day, he would also become a lifeless soul who works day and night.

He sprinted with every ounce in him; he would not go back, he had had enough, his broken tooth was the example of his courage a few months ago.

He was caught running away in the night.

He was beaten severely, losing a tooth, one time he broke his arm, and another time he lost his toenail in a beating; every time he ran away, it left him with a scar.

But he did not lose hope.

He had learned by watching.

counted

measured

every move, every path, and finally waited for wages day.

so that when he ran away, he had money to survive.

Piku looked back, the mill was now disappearing behind the trees.

Still no sign of chasing.

Soon, the overseer will know, and the guards will be after him.

After a few minutes, his lungs gave up.

He never stopped as he had to run forty miles.

Impossible…

No, he had to…

He ran into the field of cotton, hiding himself, catching his breath.

He ran again as he had to arrive at the Aamb village, where a horse lay hidden.

“I hope Spike remembered me,” thought Piku.

It has been 6 years since he tamed that horse before being sold by his father at the mill.

At that time, he only sought companionship, but now it has become his only way to survive.

Originally, Piku planned to go all the way on foot, as he knew nobody would come on this treacherous and long route, especially a runaway.

But soon his speculation was proven wrong, he heard the dog barking and the gallop of horses far away.

He sped up his pace.

His chest tightened.

His legs became heavy.

Suddenly, the ground rushed upward, and his face crashed into hard soil.

blood gushed out from his nose.

No!

He pushed himself .

“Just a bit more and we are in the Aamb village territory.”

In his heart, he continuously prayed that Spike remembered him.

He again looked back and saw his pouch of wages that he had worked hard to collect lying where he had fallen. Beyond it, guards emerged behind the tree.

“Should he risk it?” his eyes were still fixed on the pouch.

The guard was closing it now.

His vision became blurred with tears forming in his eyes; his hard work and months of planning lay on the ground.

“What will he do when he reaches the capital?” thought Piku.

With a heavy heart, he looked forward and desperately put his fingers in his mouth and blew a whistle.

But no sign of a horse appears.

He did not stop. Even though his body begged him to stop.

Blood from his nose and elbow was now dripping on the ground.

“Can he run faster than a horse?”

All the hopes disappear when one guard grabbed his collar from behind.

Piku again put his finger in his mouth and blew a last whistle.

As Piku’s shirt was worn out because of sweat, it tore away, leaving the collar in his hand, and Piku continued to run.

A guard jumped from his horse and grabbed his arm this time.

“It’s over,” growled the guard.

In a desperate moment, he looked back once again…

And the white mane was galloping toward them.

Piku’s eyes lit up, “Spike,” he whispered.

He grabbed a fistful of soil in his hand and threw it into the eye of the guard who seized him.

and dashed toward the white silhouette.

Finally, he became successful in hopping onto the Spike.

This white mane was much faster than a normal horse.

After running for a long time on the horse, he reached the Aamb village’s train station.

People were staring because of his condition.

His white, worn-out shirt was now dyed red, his collars were no longer attached to the shirt, and his teeth were red with clotted blood.

As Piku and Spike bust into the station…

People started to scream and scatter at the sight of the horse in this chaos. Spike became uneasy, snorted, and reared nervously, as it lives in the forest and is unfamiliar with humans.

Piku’s eye darted to the station clock; his heart sank!

Too late.

The last train has departed, and there will be no train till tomorrow.

The last carriage was disappearing with the setting sun.

And behind him faces of guards were becoming clearer.

Briefly, he sat frozen on the back of the white mane. His mind was full of numbness. It had been an entire day he had spent running away and being chased. His future was slipping away, and his past was bolting toward him to put him in a dungeon-like mill.

His fingers gripped the white hair of the mane.

“GO,” he shouted while shrugging Spike toward the moving train.

Deep down, he had already lost hope. “How can a horse outrun a train?”

Now, hope was not the reason he rode. It was his ego that he refused to surrender while there was still breath left in his lungs.

As his ego also died down, his mane was tired…

Then a miracle happened.

A hand reached toward him, urging him to hop on the train; this hand belonged to a girl no older than him, whose hair was red and shining in the last rays of the sun before it set, dancing in the air.

These hair remined him of someone whose small hand gripped his thumb with all her strength. His younger sister, who was born on the same day his father sold him to this mill.

This flared a fire inside Pikus’ heart, and he gave whatever he had left; foam flecked the horse’s mouth, yet he refused to stop.

Piku rose up on a still striding horse and stretched himself toward the overstretched hand.

Their hands met, and the girl pulled him with all her might, and Piku crashed onto the floor of the carriage.

Piku quickly stood up to watch Spike with his magnificent white hair, his only loyal friend who still remembered him even after 6 years.

Spike slowed to a halt, watching him, as if saying goodbye to him.

Seeing the snowy mane, Piku’s eyes welled up with tears.

not happy tear.

not sad.

A mixture of both, as after 6 years he is free and met his long last friend for maybe the last time.