"Mama, please! Mama, don't let me go! No, no! MAMA!"
"Hey!" A swift kick in the ribs wakes me and I start, looking around wildly. For a moment I don't know where I am but someone is yelling at me and I don't like it. "Would you shut up? The rest of us are trying to get some shuteye!" I stare up at the shadow looming over me and I realize it's the man who bought me. He lifts his foot again and I accidentally flinch. My nightmare is still too vivid behind my eyelids and I can't help but react. He sets his foot down, a cruel, cold smile playing across his lips. He disappears and for a second I think he's gone back to bed; but then he returns with a whip.
My pulse hammers in my ears. It's too early for this, I'm not prepared to play his games. He strokes the worn leather almost fondly as he stares me down. Even through the burlap sack on my face I feel his eyes on me, feel his accusing glare as if this deformity is my fault. He paces slowly.
"What's wrong, boy? Having nightmares again?" His eyes are cold and mocking as he stares at my trembling form. "Still calling out for mommy to come and save you? You're a dimwitted fool. She was happy to be rid of you. She sold you to me. Sold you for a penny and a loaf of bread. That's all your worth, boy. A shilling and a loaf of bread."
The whip comes out of nowhere; I clench my fists and gnaw on my bottom lip to keep from screaming. I hate this man…I hate him. "She used you, boy." Lash. Pain. "Your own mother used you." Lash. Pain. He stops then, and when I find the courage to look up I see he is staring at something to my right. He stoops down and picks it up; it's my toy monkey, the only thing mama ever gave me. It's the only thing I own. He stares at it for a minute then grabs its head and starts to pull…
"NO!" I don't remember screaming or standing up, but suddenly I'm on my feet, my hands clawing his as I try to reclaim my only possession. He seems genuinely startled and releases it, pushing me away with both hands. I stumble backward, my body landing on the hay-less part of my cage. I wince, but ignore the pain, cradling the monkey against my naked chest.
The whip comes lashing down on me again and again until I lose count and all his curses blend into one long word that eventually dies on his lips. Something warm and wet lands on my cheek and it takes me a moment to realize he spat on me. I wait until his footsteps fade to wipe it away.
My hands are shaking, I notice, as I hold one arm out in front of me, the other still securely around my toy. I roll onto my side, shivering as the warm streaks of blood falls down my chilled flesh. I hesitate a moment, then lift the toy to my face.
It appears to be in tact, but when I gently touch the head, it wiggles. When I study it closer I see that the seam has been torn. Something in my chest squeezes painfully and my vision turns watery. I hold the monkey securely to my chest as I struggle to crawl over to the hay-covered side of my cage. My right side really hurts and it feels like someone keeps poking my side with a stick. It takes a while, but I make it to the hay and by the time I get there I'm so exhausted that my eyes just close all on their own.