Speak

One :

        "There are two kinds of people in this world, the ones who can speak and are free the ones who can't speak back... scratch that the ones who can speak at all."  I scribbled onto a piece of  paper like I always do.  Ever since I was 13 this was the only way to let out my feelings.  All the walls of my dark, cramped room are covered with papers full of words.  I know soon I'll blend in as well.                                     Years ago, before I got sold off to the queen, my    Parents told I needed to try my hardest to get out of this hell. And trust me I would.                     My ankle oozed with puss and blood. The pain ached and went all the way up to my thigh. I could barely make out the two crude letters N and O. I never noticed until now how power and painful those letters were.                                        "I 'm so stupid " murmured under my breath. How can I be so stubborn. All I had too do was nods my head and go out in the wild storm and get the Queen of Malaya her bread.                        I managed to slip another paper into my rough hands and started writing...                                        "Dear people I hate that if I don't do what the "master" says or talk back or even state my opinion I'll have to get a tattoo with the the words I said! NOT TO MENTION THE DIRTY NEEDLES!                                                                       It sounded pathetic but pasted it on my anyway. I was furious and even if they have to strap me down I won't care, I'm going to end this.                                                                                 For not just me but for all the unspoken people...