Emma examined her arm carefully. With narrowed eyes, she swapped at the pesky bugs that constantly circled her. The lady with dark brown hair glanced at Emma with a bored expression, then turned away. Emma didn’t try to kill anymore buggies.
“Where are we going, Lady?” Emma asked.
The girl in front of her slowly turned and said, “To our Cottage.” Emma stared at her, expecting a longer explanation.
Finally, after no answers, Emma crossed her arms and replied, “Anything else?” The slave shook her head with a slow, sad face. Emma huffed. They were almost to their “cottage” (whatever that was). Everyone was completely silent, which aggravated Emma terribly. Silent was not a word in her dictionary.
At last, the group had made it to their Cottage, which was a run-down, stinky shack as big as Emma’s bedroom. The guard opened the creaky door, smiled an ugly smile, and said, “Welcome to your Cottage, Rats!” Emma burned with fury.
“Rat? Rat!? Really? While, what does that make you?!” she screamed. The guard stepped back in surprise. “Oh, I’m not done, Mister! Stay there…you…you…you ugly, good-for-nothing meanie man! UGH!” she stomped her foot.
Again, there was silence. The brunette haired lady stared with wide eyes at Emma, along with the rest of the group. The guard was even silent…but not for long. “Ok, you Rat! If that’s the way you want it, that’s the way you’ll get it!” He looked earnestly around, then bent down to collect a black wip. “Stand still.”
Emma suddenly felt a pang of fright. Her body tensed up, making it hard for her to stay calm. Whispers and murmurs erupted. Emma could here a few. “…she’s dead, now. Doesn’t weigh too much, I’d say.” Not helpful. A silent prayer arose to the heavens. Emma hoped that someone would do something.
The guard lifted the wip above his head, and cracked it on the dirt, sending a flurry of brown snow everywhere. Emma gulped. She glanced behind at the girl with ratty hair and studied her face. Was that- anger? She followed her stare, expecting it to land on her. But, to her surprise, it fell upon the guard. “Get over here,” commanded the man.
Emma inched forward.
“More,” the guard said through clenched teeth. Emma inched forward again.
One more step. The longer I can stall the better, Emma thought to herself.
“MORE!!!” Emma smiled smugly at the guard and stood dead in front of him. She could tell the cruel man was angrier than ever, and enjoyed teasing him. The Egyptian lifted the wip above his head. Emma screwed her eyes shut. He then moved it down with surprising force, just as Emma thought it was game over. She waited a few moments.
Emma thought she felt something grainy and moist under her entire body. She opened one eye and saw that the girl with the mussed hair had knocked her to the ground. She opened both eyes. The guard was staring at Emma, than at the rats nest girl. She was dusting off her hands, as if nothing had happened. “Thank you,” Emma whispered, as she scrambled to her feet. And for the first time since Emma’s arrival, someone actually smiled.