Law

Traders

Mark

I've always found mornings to be, refreshing. The feeling of waking up and the sun on my face was revitalising. This was how I met every day.

But not today.

Today was grey. They sky did not offer a sun to shine upon my face. The fresh morning air did not make me feel better.
It all just made me feel sick.

However I managed to swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand. I stretched and my muscles tensing as I did so.
That felt a little bit better.

I started my daily routine of getting ready.
Shower
Brush teeth
Hair
Clothes
Phone
Keys

Well I'd just finished my shower, walking out into my blue painted room, when I a soft knock cane to the door.

I rubbed a towel against my wet red hair and walked over to answer it. The white door opened to a smaller, older lady. She was Asian, much like me. Big round glasses perched on her face.

" The cars ready for you Mister Fischbach" the woman said.

I nodded.
" Thank you Hilda" I said before closing the door.

I know what you're thinking and no. She isn't a slave. Just my secretary. She's a nice old woman, good to talk to over tea.

As I selected a grey shirt and black pants from my draws my mind began to wander. Today was the day I was scheduled to go to the slave trade and get a-
I didn't even like saying it.
Calling them slaves just sounds wrong. They're people.
Whether they were kidnapped and put into it. They did it so their family could have enough money to get by. Or if they just had no other choice. It didn't matter.
They're people.
They deserve to be treated like people.

And here I am.
Getting one.

I swore curses under my breath as I slammed my draws shut. They closed with a bang. I rested my hands on the dark wood on the dresser, leaning my weight on it. My gaze fixed on my bare feet and the red carpet underneath my feet.

" I don't want to do this, I do NOT want to do this" I sighed to myself.
I raised my head to look into my mirror.

I saw a clean shaven man with messy wet hair and a glint to his eye. A glint of anger.
An anger that burned for this new crap law they put in place.

I huffed and sat on my bed, pulling on my shoes.

" Just because the government can't get off their asses and take care of their people doesn't mean they literally sell the ones they can't take care of off" I muttered angrily under my breath.

I just whipped my hands through my hair and grabbed my keys and phone. I couldn't be bothered brushing it today and it can drop with water all it wants.
Everyone's always saying in dripping with good looks anyway.

I guess that what you'd expect from a model who owns his own clothing line.

I hate being rich.

Why can't I just be a middle class citizen?
Live a normal life?
Oh yeah,
Because father didn't want me to.

My feet thudded down the stars and my keys jingled in my hand. I passed Hilda again, she waved and smiled, then turned her attention back to her papers.

" Breakfast Mark?" She asked casually.

I shook my head.
" Not today, I'm always late" I almost snapped.

With anger I grabbed the knob to the front door. Feeling the cool metal against my skin. But I couldn't bring myself to turn it.

" Mark, I know you don't want to do this. But please, don't stoop so low as to take it out on the poor human you'll bring home today" Hilda told me.