The New World

Chapter Twelve

"I can not heal your wounds," Sonakshi dabbed the cuts on my back from the stick.

I hissed in pain, "Why?"

"They probably know that you are being fed. They will start looking for me when they see that I have treated you," she said as she wiped stained blood from my skin.

"I thought Elsu would not tell?" I questioned.

"If they do not ask, he shall not tell. But he will not lie."

I sighed in disappointment.

"What are you thinking about?" Sonakshi asked and dipped the rag in water.

I stared at my wounded hand that bore a pentagram, "What will happen to me... when the week is over?"

Sonakshi stopped dabbing my wounds. She was quiet for a moment. The candle light casted shadows in my room. A woman softly sang to her baby next door.

"Well..." she began. I turned around and faced her. She fumbled one of her braids I just finished, "There are a lot of scenarios, many things could happen."

"What do you mean? Speak to me. I need to prepare myself, mentally, for what is to come," I pleaded.

"If your father does not pay, you and a few other captives will be auctioned off," she spoke, regretting the words that seeped from her mouth.

"Wait, there are more? More captives? Where? Who are they?" I asked, hysterically.

"There are others," she breathed, "They are three others, men. They are in the other Longhouses. I do not know why they are here."

"How do you know about me but not the others?"

"Their crimes were not met to your father's. I do not know what they did to upset my people."

I pondered my brain for reasons why. They must be torturing them as well. By the way Sonakshi talked about them, they did not seem to be used as ransom like me. "And what do you mean by... auctioned?"

She gave me an ungly smirk, "Do not play stupid, Alice. You're people do it as well. You humiliate the people you call 'slaves', put them on a stage and inspect them, see if they are worthy, if they meet your standards. We do what you do. See how it feels to be poked and prodded. Like your not even human."

I gawked at her. The sweet face I had knew from this week had vanished. It contorted into a face filled with anger and hate, her eyebrows pulled down and casted shadows, her mouth pouting with frustration and eyes bore with  humility.

I replayed her words in my head. She was right. I never went to see slaves being sold, only from a distance. I was passing by. The black people stood in chains, naked. Mothers and children in tears. Men angry. Everyone of them scared. The natives are treating us like how we treat slaves.

Was capturing us a lesson hidden within another? Were they showing us how we were just as bad? I never thought of outranking the Africans, but as they just worked for me. Like restaurants and stores do. Not like they weren't human.

"I-- Sonakshi, you must understand-- I... there-- we aren't," Sonakshi held up her hand, silencing me.

She held her eyes closed for a moment. I went out on a limb and spoke softly to her, "We aren't all like that," I said, "You know I am not like that," I reminded her.

She looked at me with soft eyes. "Yes. I know. I am sorry for being violent."

"It is alright. I understand."

It was quiet for a long while. I was scared to say more. I traced patterns on my skin with my fingertips, while Sonakshi just stared at her hands. Finally she spoke, "When you are auctioned, our people will 'examine' you... Someone who is interested will then adopt you..."

I looked up at her with confused when she said 'adopt'.

"The person who adopts you will of someone who's relative has passed due to the pale-faces," she continued.

"Then what?"

She sighed and her eyes met mine, "That is up to them. They may kill you... Or you will take the relative's place and live here for the rest of your life..."

A tear escaped my eye. I noticed my breathing stutter.

I did not want this. Harold didn't just bring this on himself, but also me. Just like Mother did when she had an affair. I just had one wish now. I hope I die and it is quick.