LIFE OF AN SLAVE

chapter 1 :Daily life of an slave

It was a bright and beautiful day. Birds chirped, dogs barked, and the sky stretched out in a flawless blue-so clear, it felt as if it existed for the sole purpose of being admired. The streets buzzed with life, filled with laughter, debates, and casual banter. But not for everyone.

For Noah, the day began with the stench of cow urine and manure. The air was thick with it, and in the barn, poisonous creatures crawled freely, as if it was their rightful domain. The only good part of his day-his sleep-was interrupted by the familiar, sharp kick from the owner, striking him awake without a trace of sympathy. Noah rose, devoid of emotion. This was his life, after all-an endless routine of insults and labor.

His first task, as usual, was cleaning up after the cows. He wasn't alone in this misery. Hundreds of children like him, barely five years old, were subjected to the same cruelty. A kick from a grown man had become as commonplace to them as a mother's gentle touch-except there was no gentleness, no care. Just relentless abuse, every hour of every day.

By noon, they were granted a brief five-minute break, just long enough to wolf down their lunch. They were fed the leftovers, scraps discarded by those who mattered. Yet, to Noah and the others, those scraps tasted like a feast prepared by the world's finest chefs.

As Noah dunked the cow's dung into the wheelbarrow, his mind wandered to a story that one of the masters had once told. It was meant to inject fear into the slaves, but for Noah, it was a cruel reminder of where he had come from. He had been born in a slave-breeding center-a place where women existed for one purpose: to bear children for labor.It was his mother's sixteenth pregnancy. There was no mercy, not even for pregnant women. Even in her condition, she was forced to work, chopping wood under the harsh sun. It was in the middle of this grueling task that her labor pains began. There was no one to help her, no one who cared. She struggled alone, each wave of pain crashing over her as she clung to one thought: she had to bring this child into the world. She didn't think about what the future held for the child. After all, she had been trained from the start-trained to work, to give birth, to serve. She knew that if the masters found out the child had died, she would be killed without hesitation.With every ounce of strength left in her, she pushed. The pain was unbearable, but she kept going. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a baby boy was born. The world had no idea what this child-born into chains-would become. But for Noah's mother, her journey ended there. She bled out, her body giving in to the relentless cruelty of her life.When the masters realized she hadn't returned to camp, they assumed she had tried to escape. They searched and found her lifeless body, the newborn boy still at her side. Without a second thought, they left her where she lay. To them, she was nothing more than a piece of flesh, not even worth the dignity of a burial. They took the baby and left her to rot, her body forgotten, but her son destined for the same life of suffering.

Noah had never thought of escape. The fear of it was fed to him daily, like a meal he couldn't refuse. He still remembered the cruel day when two children-brother and sister-tried to run. They were caught swiftly, dragged back in chains, and brought before everyone as a warning.Stripped of their dignity and tied to a pole, they were left in the center of the camp for three days. No food. No water. Their suffering wasn't just a punishment for them-it was an injection of fear into the hearts of every other slave child watching. The owners made sure of that.Noah remembered the vultures, the ones the masters kept as pets. They circled above, knowing what was coming. The children screamed for help, their voices breaking through the stillness of the night, but no one dared to answer. Everyone knew the price of mercy.For three long days, they cried, pleaded, and suffered under the gaze of hundreds. By the end, it was not the whips or chains that killed them, but the sheer cruelty of deprivation. The only trace left of them were their bones, which were left in the center of the camp as a grim monument-a symbol of fear carved into the hearts of those still alive.No child slept those three nights. The sound of their cries echoed endlessly in Noah's mind, a constant reminder that hope was a dangerous thing.

The other thing children feared was their age. Boys after the age of seven would be subjected to rigorous combat training, turning them into assassins. The training lasted for days, and only 5 percent of the children survived the process. Thousands of children would die during this ordeal. The masters didn't care about the deaths; all that mattered to them was the final product. There were rigorous battles day and night, fights to the death, and an intense amount of training that the human body couldn't handle.

It was even more brutal for the girls, who were forced into whorehouses until the age of twenty, after which they would be moved to breeding camps. So, the children preferred the way things were, even though there was rigorous labor day and night; it seemed like heaven compared to that fate. For Noah, however, he never really cared about where he was. In his mind, he believed he was a slave, and he always would be. Nothing mattered to him; all he cared about was surviving and not dying. He never cared about anyone; he just kept doing whatever he was told.

Even in this cruel environment, one of the masters was kind. It couldn't be said that he thought of the children as his own, but he at least regarded them as human. His name was Joseph. One day, while Noah was doing slave labor, he was called by Joseph. Noah thought it was just another job and went to Joseph, kneeling as a slave. Joseph said, "Get up, child. There is something I need to tell you." Noah was shocked; he never thought a master would talk to him and call him a child. He was used to being called a dog or a thing. This was the first time a master had called him by his name. He silently nodded.

Joseph continued, "You know you were born from a breeding center, right?" Noah nodded. Joseph added, "You were your mother's sixteenth child. I don't know about the other fourteen, but the fifteenth one..." Noah was curious about what Joseph was going to say. Joseph continued, "Well, the fifteenth child is a girl, and she is one year older than you. I have news that she is going to be moved here." Noah was shocked by this revelation; he was too stunned to speak. Joseph warned, "Well, don't tell anyone I told you this information, child. Even if I am a master, the others would crucify me if they knew I helped a slave. So keep your mouth shut and move back to your work." Noah didn't utter a word and returned to his labor, his mind full of thoughts about his elder sister he had never seen.