Mavli
MY FACE FEELS TENDER. Like cooked meat especially my right cheek. My right eye is swollen and sore. My mouth is bleeding and I'm sobbing.
I sit at the corner I sat yesterday night and early this morning. I rest my forehead on my knees and wrap my hands around my legs. I cry loudly not minding that there are nine other people in the hut.
I cry till my throat stings and gets really sore and till my voice breaks.
A calloused palm rests on my shoulder, I shrug it off but it doesn't stay away but reclaims my shoulder. "Please eat."
I sniff. I'm not hungry, I don't have an appetite for the poorly made cornmeal porridge that some other workers made.
"You'll need your strength,"the voice is very gentle and kind. Its female and it reminds me of my mother.
"Just leave me alone," I say.
