Chapter Eight

As we marched on, I looked around. Feeling much more lonely without having Lance around. His smile and laughter always seemed to make everything feel fine, like we weren’t slaves at all. He is gone though. Now all I feel is dread for what is to come.

This was only the first out of ten battles and that was even if the words that the commander said could be trusted. I mean probably lied, just trying to give us some false hope to fight for. I mean who would let their slaves go and be free after making them experience all of this...unless they don't expect us to survive that long?

The feeling of dread began to increase as I began to think and worry about what my future might hold...as I was thinking that same word came into my mind again, almost like a magic spell. Survive. It calmed me down, at least calmed me enough.