You don´t know how you love somebody until you miss it.

I have missed everything. I know he has too.

The big Achilles has missed the only thing he had loved more that inmortality.

But it was not my problem.

I have my own ones. I can´t sleep. I haven´t slept well for so long I can´t remember how it was.

A good dream. I can´t dream. I just have nightmares.

I can just see them die. My parents, all my family. My city burning down. Big flames covering almost everything: houses, roads, people--, that wooden and frightening horse seemed to laugh at us as it was burnt too.

Real horses and other animals trying to run away as well as men, women and childs. But the tall walls of our city were a trap for us, its own citizens.

I see my parents die once and again. My father trying to protect us, with his shield, armour and his sword. He was a warrior, he died as a warrior. No, he died as a man, as every man from Troy.

They, the great greek warriors cut his head off.

I saw it falling down over the ground with an horrible noise. Blood all over the floor. His eyes seemed to stare at me but he couldn´t see.

And they killed my little brother, as he, that Achilles, did with my prince Hector, with Paris´ brother.

But mine was just four years old.

I can still hear his screams, he cried because he was frightened, because of the noises. I cried for him, because I knew there was just one destiny for children and babies: the death.

I wish I was dead too but for me they had other plans.

My mother tried to help me as she tried to help my little brother, as my father tried to help us.

They all failed.

The warriors killed my mother and trapped me.

I again wished I was dead just like my loved ones.

It is always that horrible nightmare, every night, but it is more horrible to know it isn´t a nightmare, just reality.

As I said I can see him cry too, just like me but nobody knows it. He tries not to show his own feelings.

The great warrior Achilles doesn´t look at me at all. I think I remind him of her as she was a troyan, just like me. But she was killed and he couldn´t do anything to help.

I saw her body falling down the castle walls, she was dead before meeting the ground.

I think Achilles couldn´t talk to her before it was too late.

I couldn´t tell my parents how I loved them.

Now I´m 17 years old and I´m a slave.

I must serve the ones who killed my family.

I couldn´t run away but I know there were others who did save their lifes.

They told me Andromache, prince Hector´s wife ran away with their son and that prince Paris and Helen got it too.

Some days ago I hoped they would come back to save us, their city only survivors.

Today there is no hope. They left us and I hate them as much as Achilles hates the one who killed his love.

I heard warriors talk about it, I heard we are coming back to Greece in some days, as soon as the storm is off. I think we will be selt but can be sure, if I meet my prince or Helen I would kill them.

I have decided stop eating, I want death. But they make me do it.

They can´t sell me or use me if I die.

I have fought them, I face them every night when they try to take me. I have bruises that prove it, all over my body.

They hit me until I can´t move but then they go.

There are others like me that aren´t so luckily. I can hear my troyan brothers and sisters screams and cries and prayers in the night. They too want to die. They want to meet Hades and the Underwold, anything would be better than it.

We are just sixty or so, I think. Some can fight yet, others have lose their strenght and I feel I´m loosing mine too.

Today I was told to go and serve the dinner.

Greek warriors aren´t all the same, they aren´t all that brute and bad guys but there are lots of them.

Some went into the city to take what was left into the ruins. The others are with the boats, reparing it and getting new ones from troyan´s.

I went out of my tent, if that can be called a tent, and went to help cooking for them. They killed some of our great horses and I had to serve it.

Already know why I can´t eat.

I went and some of them laughed at me, the drunk ones, they told me all sort of things a person should never hear.

I tried not to look at them, I was lucky they were not all like that.

Achilles didn´t stay near the others and there was a man that always looked at me with sadness on his face. I think he is called Odysseus.

That night I felt down with some of the lunch and it went all over the ground. A short but stong man hit me. Odysseus was the one who face him for me. "Just don´t put a hand on her again" he ordered.

The brute one looked at him angrily. "She have throw our lunch away".

" If you don´t want it to happen maybe you should take care of your lunch by yourself" Odysseus said.

The drunk man went back and sit again. " I will talk about your bad ways, helping war slaves--"

"Talk to who? I´m the king of Ithaca, I will not receive any orders Flavius, I just have had enough of it. And maybe they are slaves but they are not animals"

"Do you think you are Achilles? Are you fucking that troyan whore or something?"

"She isn´t a whore and she is just a girl, I--"

Odyseus couldn´t finish his statement because a sword hit the drunk man.

I saw his blood running down over his body from his opened mouth, he seemed surprised and soon he was lying on the ground.

Achilles was just near him

"I advised not to share a word about me, that´s enough" he said with an angry look and fire on his eyes.

He looked at me and I took one step away from him. He smiled but it was a sarcastic and icely smile.

"There are people here you should be more frightened of than me. We are all near snakes" he told me.

"I think all of you are the same kind of animal, not snakes but rats"

I know I should have been quiet but I couldn´t help it. He hit me on my face and I felt down.

I tasted blood on my tongue, I had beating it. But I stared at him and didn´t say a word.

Achilles stared at me for a moment and then turned to Odysseus. "Take care of that girl and make her stay out of my sight or--" he looked at me but I didn´t see hate on his eyes, just sadness, he went away.

Odysseus took my hand and helped me to get up."Are you alright?" he asked gently. I nodded.

The others had began eating egain but some of the slaves, my friends, were staring at us.

"It´s okay Arish. Go and rest"

I was socked, he knew my name, but I didn´t ask anything, I just nodded again. "Thank you"

"Not at all"

He smiled and I turned back to my tent.