I was naked, picking away at rocks with my pick-axe. There were chains around my ankles, digging into my skin and leaving an itchy mark. I was part of a chain-gang of other naked women, also picking at rocks. We were all sweating and groaning. The woman to my right paused and moaned. She was thin, with big boobs and a wide butt, and she had very straight black hair that fell down past her ears. There was a CRACK of a whip against her back and she cried out in pain.
"Back to work, slave!" said the man overseeing us. He wore thick leather armour and gripped his whip in his right hand.
She gritted her teeth and swung her pick-axe into the rocks.
I was covered in sweat and dirt. I was exhausted. I'd been awake for hours, swinging my axe over and over. My mind and body were numb. I was whistling. I was overjoyed. I was exactly where I needed to be.
"Why - the fuck - are you
whistling?"
growled the women to my right as she swung her pick-axe.
"Because I'm happy," I said. "It's such a darn nice day for it, don't you think?"
"You're a slave, you idiot!" she shrieked. "You're naked and being worked all day! What is
wrong
with you?!"
I shook my head and smiled as the overseer whipped her back. I continued with my work. Images floated through my head of the past.
I was standing in a line with the other slaves. We were still chained together in our long coffle. It was night-time, and we were being filed back into the ramshackle settlement built for us. The coffle was so long that we were still filed out into the forest. The other women looked dirty and ragged and exhausted. Some of them were crying. I saw a slave ahead of me collapse in tears. The overseer her dragged her back to her feet.
When I filed in through the gate, I saw the other slaves lining up to eat. They were handed a bowl filled with gruel and unchained from the coffle. They still had chains around their wrists and ankles, so they hobbled off somewhere to eat in peace, their breasts and butts wobbling.
The woman in front of me turned to me. "You see this? You see all these naked, suffering, humiliated women? Women forced into servitude, who may never see freedom again, and you say this is good for you?"
"Yes," I said without hesitation. "There are places worse than here."
My mind wandered to the past. Filling out forms on a computer in a dingy, ugly office. It was a goddamned open plan, where I had no privacy whatsoever. I was exhausted by my commute from my shitty studio apartment. I was wearing my uncomfortable, ugly Business Casual outfit. My brain was fried by the tedious bullshit I had to do all day. My boss walked up to me.
"Hey, Katrina." His smile was so fake. He tossed a book on my desk. "Could you scan this book for me?"
"Sure," I said, giving my own extremely fake smile. I picked up the book and walked out of the office and into the scanner room. We had a few scanners. Only one person was in there, the little old lady I couldn't stand. She nodded to me and smiled as she took her copies out, and then I was alone. I opened a scanner, dumped the book on it, irritably lined it up properly, and hit the scan button. As it scanned, I fumed about my bullshit life and my bullshit job and the bullshit of having to be alive.
