prolouge:slaves we are not
Have you ever wonder what it was like to be free? To truly have the ability to do anything you wanted and not be owned by someone else. Even when I am not chained I still feel that invisible rope ready to pull you back if you go too far. I guess it is better than being hungry and homeless, better than the wild lands. But I still always just wonder the possibility's even if I will always be a slave.
So maybe you are wondering who I am, were my story started, and why I am writing this. My name is Rose Rivian. I was born a slave of the year 2,254. My old owner were farmers and from the time I could stand I was picking strawberries and tomato as well as cleaning stalls.
That life was very depressing and there was little to live for. I remember sharing a room with five other slaves. I never know my mom or dad, because I was separate from them at birth. The farm owner kept me and sold my parents off. All the work I did was worth 2 meals a day and a bed.
By the time I hit my teenage years the farm was being sold as well as all of us slaves. We were sent off to the bidding house. That place was unspeakably horrible forcing us into small cramp cages. Force to desecrate on are self and hosed down before the auction started.
The environment itself was humid and hot. We were force to be naked and during the show humiliated. As they would strap you into a machine by the neck. That would force you onto a stage in front of hundreds of people. While on the stage the host would inspect and show off anything of interest from breast size to how strong we were.
I remember being up on that stage, the panic of not knowing my fate. Barley able to breath because of the metal digging into my neck. The pain from being in a cage only half my sized for days. As he walked around me I must have blacked out several times. The memories are in and out from him lifting up my tail, to looking me in the eye, then the bidding.
I once had my master tell me that if I didn't obey then god would send me to hell. I wonder if I by hell he meant the auction house. I wonder why god would be so cruel to send me to this place. Then I thought that god might not even care about me. After all we are the slave, we are not genetically pure we are flawed beast that why we are slaves.