THIRST IN HELL

CHAPTER 3

" It's enough!"

I pleaded as whips fell on my back, like those on a donkey serving a ruthless master. The king had ordered that I be severely whipped when I was returned to his high-cave without the rune stone. More painful than the whips was the knowledge that my tormentors were having their time as though it was some kind of a normal game. The skin on my back was badly torn and blood was oozing and dripping to the hungry ground.

As if that was not enough, the king ordered that I be enslaved to work for him with other workers. No payment.

It occurred to me that nobody cared. whether I survived or died was none of their business.

I never knew that slavery existed anywhere, but I later realised that this was a special type of slavery. Slaves were brainwashed with a certain type of modified religion and were made to believe that they were free or were headed to some freedom. They were referred to as workers, a word that was more friendly than the word slave.

The work was demanding while the pay was peasant, so small so that it could not buy them enough food or even enough second-hand clothes that were being sold. Practically, they were slaves whose masters provided only ration food and a few clothes in form of a few coins.

I recalled how my grandfather once taught me about saving a portion (twenty percent) of whatever money I possess and then strive to be self-employed. I wondered whether his wisdom could work in this strange world. Maybe it can work for others, but obviously not for a person receiving a nought payment.

I discovered that a day in hell is so long that you wish for it to end.

The work allocation was dependent on the previous know-how of the worker. There were farmers, judges, doctors, caretakers and pastors among others, each playing his part using his wits.

Stealing, gambling and prostitution were sometimes viewed as a job, a potentially taxable job.

Work was said not to be compulsory. However, the endless needs versus low income kept motivating workers to work daily, even unto late hours. The chain was as simple as; no work-no money. No money- no food. No food- no life. And if you die in hell, I can not imagine where your soul would go to next.

My work involved teaching teen students, the profession I had in my earlier life. Teaching is an enjoyable and satisfying career, I mean, until you find yourself teaching lazy and stubborn students like the lot I had. I would get so much drained from the effort I wasted pushing them around like handcarts. I would try all methods, including using moral narratives.

                              *******

"A certain king in a certain country allowed his three servants to freely select and cultivate portions of his land. One servant picked ten portions. The other picked five portion and the third picked one portion.

Now, the servant with one portion used to mock the others each day as they worked in their own portions. He had very little to do himself. He used to call the other servants as squared servants. They completed cultivating their portions. The lazy servant cultivated his portion in a hurry at night and was not serious so he can mock the others during the daytime. Needless to say, most of his crop did not grow to yield.

On the harvest day, the master surprised his servants.

"Any produce that each of you workers harvest from your  fields this season is your own."  He offered, "Now, go and enjoy the fruit of your sweat!"