The Slave

• Ira Friedberg, Grade 9, South Sydney High School
• Poetry
• 2014

Finalist in the 'The Text Generation 2014' competition

The sun-scorched sands blistered my dragging, shackled feet and leeched the sweat from my gangly limbs. Tall, dead, treacherous trees formed a partial arch over my brethren and me as we trudged along in our militant line. The cruel branches sliced up the sun's torrid rays, sending hot daggers into our coarse sweltering flesh and transforming our calvous skulls into light bulbs.
At the edge of my bleached vision I noticed a small lizard lurking in the shrubbery, its emerald green scales glistening in the sunlight like a jewel lodged in the sand. The lizard sat motionless, its beady eyes darting from one member of our group to another. Perhaps it marvelled at the thick steel chains that joined our shuffling feet and wondered at the utter fear and paranoia in our sullen eyes.
Suddenly, the lizard shot out of the foliage towards me. It crawled between my toes and up my leg A tingling sensation raced up my spine, causing me to jerk the chain back, instigating a domino effect in the line. The man in front of me collapsed, followed by the man in front of him and the man in front of him. Soon the whole group of prisoners was lying in the sand, scrabbling and clutching at each other in a futile attempt to get up.
In the midst of the ruckus, I noticed the small crafty lizard scurrying back into the bushes; I wasn't so lucky. A blurry hatted figure in white was storming towards me, gripping a leather whip in one hand and a smooth black cane in the other. As he came near, he spat out some words in a strange and foreign tongue I had never encountered before. Nevertheless, their meaning was very clear. He unravelled his whip slowly and precisely, motioning with his cane for me to kneel down. His stern immobilising glare gave me no choice but to comply.
I heard the crack and felt the jolt of searing pain. It ran through me, causing me to convulse violently and cry out as the pain spread. Every time the pain started to subside, another crack of the whip tore into me. The sensation of overwhelming pain brought with a desperate desire to remember. To remember my family, my tribe and the life I had before I was deprived of my liberty without warning and for no reason I could comprehend. I could not even imagine what a life of slavery might mean.