SLAVE TWINS

 Valentina remembered that hot and fateful day, six years ago, when those men came to kidnap her. She was only twelve years old and had spent the afternoon with Stephanie, her identical twin sister, looking for flowers for her mother's vase. They were in a huge meadow tinged with green, with lush trees and a small river with crystal clear water. She was dressed in her white dress with multicolored prints, was bare feet and carried a basket in her hand, which was filling up with all kinds of flowers. She remembered the admiration that her sister had already aroused in her at that time. Although they were considered the prettiest girls in town, and had no shortage of suitors among the large group of boys, she only had eyes for her sister. Looking at her was like looking at herself in a mirror, and although she was aware that her admiration and feelings for her could be considered a little strange, since she only wanted the perfect occasion to kiss her on the lips, something she had never dared to do, she knew that she would not be happy if she did not get to share her life with her like any other pair of lovers. She also remembered noticing the small red insect with black dots perched on the long brown hair of her sister, whom, like her, was barefoot and wearing a cream-colored dress. She asked her to stop with the idea of taking the attractive insect in her hands by the time she saw them coming in the distance. They were about ten men, all riding horses and dressed in black. They rode at great speed and did not take more than three or four minutes to stop in front of them. Some of them had long dark hair, others had blond or red hair, and only one of them had short white hair. But he was not an old man; he was a supremely attractive young man, with a fine face and a slender figure. From the clothes he wore, the elegance of his horse and his manner of riding, he seemed to be a cut above the rest. Moments later, and without a word, several of them descended from their horses, pounced upon them, knocked them down and tied their wrists with bonds whose opposite ends were tied to the saddle of the white-haired man's horse. Without understanding what was happening, from one moment to the next, between desperate cries and screams, they were forced to walk behind the animals, trying to keep up with their accelerated pace, avoiding falling to the ground and ending up being dragged along a path that had left the soft grass behind and had become a hard trail made up of all kinds of stones and small rocks. It didn't take long for the soles of her bare feet, and those of her sister Stephanie, to start bleeding, but as much as they hurt, they knew it would be much worse to fall to the ground and end up being dragged. She remembered walking, in the midst of pain, terror, crying and uncertainty, until the moment the sun hid behind the mountain and darkness invaded everything. They spent the night sitting, their bodies tied to the trees adjacent to a small clearing in the middle of the forest, their mouths gagged thus avoiding any kind of communication between them. There were few moments in which she managed to sleep; the fright, the discomfort, the pain in her feet, the thirst and the hunger were superior to the tiredness whose effects generally managed to make her sleep after the long and laborious days alongside her sister and the rest of the members of her family. That long night, thanks to the full moon light, she could clearly observe, a few meters away, how the handsome white-haired man kissed passionately with one of his companions, a long-haired blond who was taller than him. But those memories were interrupted by the sharp pain that Parcer's whip caused in her bare back. It was the reminder, which came at least four or five times a day, of the prohibition to relax during working hours. She turned to look at the cruel foreman, trying to hide the hatred, rage and pain felt, knowing the horrible consequences that showing an expression halfway resembling contempt would bring. She held his gaze for a brief moment before throwing her pike back on the piece of rock that was to become part of one of the walls of the place where she had spent her last six years, the slave camp.