Enslaved to Zion

Chapter 2

Coming to my senses, I'm able to make out voices but all I can see is darkness. Who are the voices coming from? I listen to my surroundings as my world comes back together like puzzle pieces in my previously jumbled mind. I don't believe I recognize any of these sounds or voices. Suddenly, my last memories come cascading back to me, crashing into my head with a roar. Opening my eyes, I try to jolt up but my efforts are in vain. Where am I? What happened after I was picked up by that ugly brute on horseback?

Piece after piece, floats into place as the world builds in the darkness around me. My eyes seem to be covered with a dark cloth of sorts and my hands and ankles are bound by some kind of scratchy rope, though it feels more like thorns or barbed wire against what used to be my soft, delicate skin. I can only imagine what I must look like now, covered in sweat and dirt, bruises and blood. As my captors come to the realization that I've awoken, I hear footsteps coming in my direction and I tremble, curling into the fetal position and covering my head as best as I can.

"Well, well, well, look who decided to join the party!", a man's voice says.

As the footsteps cease, the floor creaks beside me, and without notice, I'm yanked up onto my knees. The pain hits me like a ton of bricks and I let out a yelp. My head seems like it's going to explode and I feel myself go limp against my will. My entire body feels like I've fallen from a rooftop and none of my muscles can be convinced to work. The man in front of me lets go of my arms as I fall to the floor, the darkness spinning all around me. I feel as though I'm going to be sick!

"Alright, fine then! I suggest you take advantage of this time to rest now.", he says, almost whispering. "Tomorrow, you'll be auctioned off to the highest bidder. If I were your owner, you surely wouldn't be getting any rest in my company."

A grubby finger traces from my chin down my neck, across my collar bone and stops at the strap of my dress. The footsteps start again as the repulsive touch pulls away, this time sounding more rushed and heading away from me. I hear a door close, not far away. As soon as all the noises fade and the blackness stops whirling in my head, tears form in my eyes and the hot liquid falls over the bridge of my nose and down the side of my face, soaking the cloth that's covering my eyes. Why are they doing this to me? What exactly did I do to deserve this mistreatment? I just wish that someone would explain to me exactly what's going on.

None of this makes any sense at all. How could anyone treat their fellow humans in this manner? Do they not fear the wrath of the heavens? Even though we rarely met a visitor, I was still taught to treat people with hospitality. This room is so cold. I can't even tell whether it's day or night. How far am I from home, from the city, from where I was captured? How far did I run? My legs ache like never before and this deep hunger feels like it's eating my stomach from the inside out. The craving I have for water alone is nearly unbearable. I'm just so incredibly thirsty I can hardly stand it! But I can't even move.

The thought comes to me that maybe I should try to scream. Maybe someone will hear me and come to my rescue... Or maybe my captors will come back and beat me or kill me. No, I have to play my cards right and get through this if I ever want to see my father again. For now, I will just stay silent. The last thing I want to do is to anger the ones who hold my life in their filthy hands. I can get through this! I'm going to try to do whatever I can to stay alive. They have to give me water and feed me some time. I just have to hold on. Things will all work out in the end. They have to.

For hours, I lay there, unmoving. I keep myself occupied by thinking of happier times. Memories of growing up comfort me and I play through some of the most precious moments of my life in my head. Father has always raised me well. And he's never made me yearn for Mama. Not that I can even remember her. She died from pneumonia when I was only 2 years old. And since then, it's always just been me and my father and the animals on the farm. He taught me everything I know. When I wanted to learn something, he would sit right down and make sure to teach it to me. We're happy on our own. He works so hard to make sure I never miss out on having a mother.

And we've always kept to ourselves except for the occasions when we need supplies. Rarely do we mingle with any other farmers and we live so far from anyone else that we never have an accidental meeting. There have never been any cousins, no grandparents, no aunts, and certainly no uncle like the one that the brute man mentioned. Father and I are all each other have ever had! We're all we've ever needed. As long as we have each other, we'll be okay. However, I do have one desire. I've secretly dreamed of meeting a handsome man who works as hard as my father does to marry and take some of the load off of him. I've read books of romantic princes sweeping ladies away to castles, but I'd rather stay on the farm and be happy all together.

I want things to stay how they've always been. Since I was young, every morning, I would wake up, milk the cow, and make breakfast for the two of us while Father fed the animals and tended to other important matters. We'd eat together and he always tells me that I make the best biscuits this side of the Euroan River. In fact, I was named after that great blue river. On the day I was born, he told Mama that my name would be Euroah, because my eyes were the color of the river's beautiful, calm waters. I always loved it when Father would tell me that story as a little girl. Never have we double crossed anyone or caused any trouble. I just can't understand where things all went wrong.

The sound of a woman screaming shatters my happy thoughts like a stone barreling through the window into my past, breaking the glass forever. The horrific sound of wailing followed by moans and smacking goes on for what seems like an eternity, until she makes no more sound at all. All that remains is a faint grunting sound and a bumping on a distant wall. Is whatever happened to her going to happen to me? Am I going to be tortured like that too? Why am I even here? What is the point of all this? I remember that the man said something about a highest bidder. Am I going to be sold like livestock?

Father would send the merchants to auction with a list of our needs and maximum bid. Is someone going to buy me? Am I to be farm labor? If someone takes me far away, how will Father ever find me? How will he ever clear up this misunderstanding and how will I ever get home? I lay there wondering where my father is and why he hasn't yet come for me. Why isn't he here telling these thugs that they've got it all wrong? I just want to go home, back to the simple life I led before this nightmare invaded my sweet dreams. The tiny farm house I've lived my nearly 18 years in isn't much, but it's where I've always imagined I'd be forever. I's cozy... It's home.

I've always pictured my eternity there, building a home next to my father's. I thought of having my own little children running around and messing with the goats, just as I grew up doing. I'd envisioned growing old there with my own lover and we'd sit together under the willow tree while I sang sweet tunes to my little family. We'd live happy days together until the end of time and then be buried on the hillside overlooking the meadow, right next to Mama and Father, when it's time. It appears as though that has all been ripped away from me now. And I haven't even had a chance to find my love yet. This thought makes the pain so intense that the tears come even harder.

The death of all my sweetest childhood dreams is finally too much for me to bear. No longer do I have any control, nor any desire to hold back my devastation or put on a brave face. Taking a deep breath in, I let go of all my pent up emotions and sob unashamedly until any further tears refuse to fall. Though I'm fearful of what tomorrow will hold, I am only human. Eventually, fatigue creeps through my body like some kind of twisted lullaby and I give into the exhaustion. I slip into bitter sweet, much needed sleep.