(A/N: Sorry for the wait. Here is the actual first chapter of Lin's poor life. I do not own Avatar. Lin is mine, however.)
Chapter 1: Bondage
I WAS AWAKE but I did not open my eyes. I lay there in my tiny cot, awaiting the morning gong that told all of the slaves to rise and work. Then, the crimson clad guards would bellow at us if we did not obey the daily sounding of our labor. They seem to enjoy our suffering, waiting for us to slip up or trip just to have the chance to flog us with their fire whips. So goes the grand hospitality of the Fire Nation, not that I actually expect slave guards to be the type of individuals to be merry and cordial.
I rise reluctantly and sit up in my tiny cot and let my eyes adjust to the darkness. Today, I remember with an internal groan, was the day we had to move crates from the storage compartments. Its location is in a very dark, low part of the vessel that only younger slaves can go. But a lot of the slaves are older, so the guards straggle as many youths as possible to gather us down there. No one wants to go down there. The heavy machinery makes it dangerous, and the steam makes it hard to see. We have even lost a few down there.
The guards shout into my compartment that I share with six other people; an old couple and a woman with her three young children. The room was originally only made for two, so you can imagine the strain of the small family. Children and the elderly work mainly on the deck, for the Captain's fear of losing extra, weaker workers on the job. Not because they care, but because they hate it when something goes on that they do not know about.
The guards light our room with fire bending. They awaken slowly, but for some reason I feel the need to hasten today. Something has me on edge. I carefully step out of bed, trying not to step on Cho's children. When I first met Cho, she was pregnant with twins and very unhealthy. One of the workers was a nurse before her enslavement, so she took care of Cho until the birth and was healthy enough to work, not without permission from the Captain of course.
Nothing went on without Captain Long's consent. Nothing.
Everyone knew the real reason Captain Long went along with Cho's nursing. More workers. As I said before, the geniality of the Fire Nation is well appreciated. But I was glad because it meant no one would be hurt or thrown off the ship.
I creep out of bed and find the washcloth we all share in the corner of the room and wash my face as much as possible, glance in the mirror and slip on my shoes. A glance in the cracked bowl-sized mirror tells me I look tired: tired being an understatement of massive proportions.
I linger at my reflection. My skin is light from working under the decks, my pale green eyes dry and puffy from uncomfortable sleep, and my waist length dark hair in disarray around me. I try to assemble it somehow, in hopes that it will stay out of my face. I settle it into a tie at the base of my neck and dust of the brown smock all the slaves and I wear at all times.
I finally creep gingerly out of the fire lit room and start down the dark corridors. Along the way crimson clad guards watch at every door. Captain Long's orders. He has guards watch us very closely ever since he heard one of the slave ships was infiltrated by the avatar who freed the entire ship. Rumor has it he is a mere boy; an airbender.
As I pass through the endless passage, I make absolutely no eye contact but look to the ground at my feet as the guards watch me closer than necessary. I extremely dislike these unwarranted gazes from some of the guards, so far from home where their wives sit fat and bejeweled, while I am so close and so young and weak… I do not allow myself to think that way; if I did, I'd lose the little strength I have left. I suddenly shudder without any cold.
I turn many corners and silently make my way to the ladder that leads the way to the storage chamber. There is, in reality, a whole series of ladders that lead to the storage room, near the bottom floors of the ship. It is so large; I sometimes forget we're on the ocean. We have all gotten used to the subtle swaying of the vessel over time. I hardly see the sun or the deck any more, so the entire ship seems to glide by like a moving eternal dark cavern none of us can escape from. I've forgotten what those things feel like.
I finish climbing down the ladders and the other youths and I begin to carefully lift the heavy crates of metal one at a time. They are the size of great boulders, and twice the weight so it takes two or three of us at time to lift them out of the room and maneuver them though a large lift. The lift is operated by ropes and a series of pulleys which have to be pulled manually. Once we pack all of the crates and they are lifted to the higher floors where a second group of slaves take the crates to another lift which is brought to the deck for repair.
The work is made more difficult by the fact that there are very few on the ship in my age group. There are probably ten of us on the whole ship. The rest are much older. There is hardly any talking while all this work is done, and Long has guards watching us the entire time.
It takes me and three young men to pull the ropes of the pulley along, slowly. Do it too fast and the ropes may break. I don't know if I have as much strength as the men, but after years of hard labor, I can certainly hold my own.
We strain hard, inhale as we pull the next load.
Then it happened.
I lost my balance.
As we stood on the upper level of the lift, pulling the rope, I lost my footing, my bare feet slipping against the cold metal. I watched in horror as the delicate bindings of the rope rip apart.
The rope breaks and the entire lift is thrown off. The crates slide precariously off as the metal lift slants forward into the floor below. All of this happens as I fumble to the ground with a loud thud.
I squeeze my eyes shut as I hear the crates crash into the ground below and the cries of the people around and underneath me. Not much time later footsteps gather around me.
"What's going on here?" A guard barks curtly at the crowd around me. He wastes no time waiting for an answer and pushes past them to glower down at me.
I try my best to scramble upward. No showing weakness to them. But I'm not fast enough.
I cry out as the Fire guard seizes me up by my hair and jerks me up to a standing position.
"Sir!" stirs one of the slaves, "She j-just lost her balance!"
"SILENCE!" the guard bellows. The slaves cower away. They're too afraid, too submissive to stand up for me any further. It's not necessarily cowardice; it's survival. The way we've been conditioned.
The soldier grasps the back of my head and jerks me forward.
"Do you know the penalty for your carelessness?" he sneered. He roughly pushes my head, forcing me on my knees. I unwillingly let out a whimper.
"DO YOU?" He continues pulling me like a rag doll. No, a rag doll is treated with more sympathy. "Do you know how much those supplies will COST US?"
He finally throws me down, while two other guards snicker at me. The guard who handled me yells to the others to fix the mess. The other two soldiers grasp me up by my arms. I know where this is heading…
The three men take me through the dark hallways, up the endless stairways, and finally, to the deck.
The harsh sunlight blinds me temporarily. I have not seen daylight in some time.
The guards throw me into a wooden panel that stands right before the Captain's compartment.
The other slaves out there only stare on helplessly, and quickly go back to their orders, for fear of punishment for slacking off.
I have only been lashed once before. When I was a child.
I was ten years old and new to the "work system" of the ship. I had never even seen the sea before. I was carrying a water bucket to the Captain Long's bed chambers, and slipped right before his door. The water spilled across the floor. Carelessness, again. The doors swiveled open, the lamplight spilling on to the dark metal floor. There was Captain Long, a fuming firebender with no remorse. Just behind him was a young slave girl, struggling to cover herself with silk sheets. Of course, I was too young to understand why she was there…
It was the most excruciating experience of my life. One of the most. I still have the scars. Of course, I've seen many slaves with burn marks across their faces or bodies from carelessness…
--
The guards bound me by my wrists against two metal columns. Panting, I try feebly to escape, but it's just like the last time. The one soldier who grabbed me steps behind me.
"You're the only one to blame, precious." He smirked over me. All I can hear is the blood pulsing through my veins. Sweat clinging to my skin.
He grasps my shoulders so he can rip the material from my skin. The smock tears, exposing my back and shoulders. His hands linger on my shoulders for too long. Fire scum.
I don't even have to look up to know the Captain is watching. Leering sadistically would be a better way of putting it. I don't dare look up.
--
I can feel the heat before it even reaches my skin.
"AAAAAAAH!!"
Getting lashed by fire is unlike any other sentence. The leather, while it draws blood, does not last inside of you the way fire does.
And that's only the first blow.
The flames roar as they sear my skin, tearing the flesh of my marred back further.
My screams go unheard. No one can help me.
I am lashed again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
--
Nothing.
I had tried so hard not to cry, but my tears betray me. Whimpering, I wonder if I had either died or the fire had actually burned me into numbness.
I dared to look up. Captain Long stands before me, his hand held up ordering the men to stop.
Panting, I look around confused. Captain Long approaches me, and I hope with all of my willpower left that I can somehow shrink into nonexistence.
No avail.
Captain Long grasps my chin, forcing me into his gaze. Captain Long has leering tawny eyes, a narrow face and a nose that is reminiscent of a fox, with a graying beard. He is more than twice my age and has an unfortunate weakness for young women, as I have heard. Rumor has it back in the Fire Nation, he "lets loose his fist" on his wife once in a while as well…
He leers down at me, his expression changes from smug to mild surprise.
"I know those eyes," he murmurs admiring my very pale jade colored eyes. He recognizes me. I'm dead.
His thumb grazes my chin of my tear stained face. I glare away from him, repulsed. He gives a sadistic chortle and releases my face. Turning to his guards, he snaps his fingers and my bounds are cut, and I collapse to the ground with a grunt.
Captain Long turns to leave to his quarters, but he turns over his shoulders and murmurs something to one of the guards, who looks at me and smirks vulgarly.
When the Captain leaves, everyone behaves as if they never saw a thing. Then I am seized again. I struggle to cover myself, and I hiss as I feel blood running down my back.
"Not yet, precious," the man on my left purrs, "The Captain would like a word with you…"
(A/N: Oh, no. Looks like Lin is in for it. Please Review. Let me know anything. Jet in next Chapter For sure!!)