Description
The scenery before me was beautiful. with the crystal see-through waves splashing over the ship. the drizzle of rain that brushed against my skin like the little stones me and my twin sister, dera used to play with. Good memories are actually sweet indeed. My heart clenched seeing Christian being taken away from me. being bitterly beaten half dead because he wanted his voice to be known. To speak on behalf of all of us. Something I could never dream of doing. Now seeing how those Europeans throw him into the sea catching the last glance of his reassuring smile through all the thick crimson substance filling his face. I felt helpless and defenseless I wish I could have done more but I couldn't. cause I'm weak! "doma" Dera called me in a silent whisper. I turned to her. Her eyes were swollen from the tears. Her weaving is loose as her black hair flares out. The thin gown she wore made her look lean and malnourished. It's been three days since the journey out of the Atlantic Ocean began. three days since I lost my papa. As the days passed more rage and sadness rampage my heart. They treat us like dirt and filth because we are a different color from them. Giving us stale bread as a daily diet and water if they feel like it. people drink the seawater out of thirst. people drop like dead chickens every second because of different diseases and our captives don't seem to care. Once one is dead they throw you over broad sneering their perfect white teeth. All this pain, agony, and sorrow was everything Papa predicted. Being the arms general and a man of knowledge he knew things would always be ugly.........
chapter 1
