A Game of Colours

Chapter 15: Invisible Chains

The familiar bell tongs the next morning, and the slaves all prepare for another long day. Isaac helps me to the kitchen, where I'll be working for the next three or four weeks while my ankle heals.

"I'll check on you in the evening, alright?"

"Thanks," I say gloomily. I find myself saying that a lot lately, and it irritates me. I just want to do things myself. To be strong enough to survive on my own.

But I'm not.

"Look at me, Alice" says Isaac.

I lift my chin slightly. 

"You are not weak. Far from that. You've been sulking around, acting like you have no reason to live lately. And it's not true."

Slightly surprised he read my thoughts, I look up at him.

"It's this place. It's breaking you. The Alice I used to know was fiery, hotheaded, and brave. She didn't let people step on her. She's in there. You need to get her back." 

"Yeah? Well, the Isaac I used to know was a pain in my ass. Can I get him back?" I tease half-heartedly.

"There she is."

He smiles and leaves.

I take a seat, propping my leg up on a stool. Ava walks in moments later, carrying a bucket of carrots and a knife.

"The usual batch if you please," she says, and I accept it. 

I sit by the window most days, to watch the sunrise. Sometimes I'll even get a glimpse of Isaac, which I like to make sure he's okay. I hum to myself for entertainment, since Ava's too busy to talk.

I wonder what it's like, waking up and just doing nothing. Sundays we get half the day off, and that's usually when Isaac and me wash our clothes by the stream, and relax for a bit. They're really all I look forward to. 

"It really is beautiful, huh?"

Startled by the voice, I flinch and cut my finger on the knife.

Jarrah chuckles. "You've got to be the clumsiest slave in the country, love." He grabs a towel and hands it to me, which I meekly accept.

"You caught me by surprise," I reply dumbly.

"I do have that effect on people," he grins.

Cheeky bastard.

"You're lucky, you know." 

I snort, but bite my tongue. I can't talk back to him the way I want to. 

"What? You are."

"Yeah, time of my life stuck with you in here," I mutter.

"Careful, girl."

"I have a name, you know. I know it's something you lot easily forget," I say icily, turning my back to him. 

"Woah, woah. Why so bitter?"

I'm unable to come up with a response that wouldn't earn me a lashing, so I bite my tongue again. Why won't he just go away? I can't get in trouble for talking to him.

"You think I'm one of them, don't you?" he asks quietly after a few moments of silence.

"I have eyes, don't I?"

"Have ya got ears, too? Since when does my skin tell ya who I am?"

I laugh humourlessly. "There's a reason I'm the one cuttin' the carrots and you're the one eatin' 'em, ya know."

He clicks his tongue. "Well--Alice, is it? There's more to me than that. I promise you."

I nod, reaching for another carrot.