Chapter 1.5

I wished over and over, that we wouldn't be stopped, that the lid would never be raised. Even if it meant this cramped, stuffy, box was my entire world for the rest of my life. I prayed to every god I could think of, please, no-one lift that lid.

I was thrashed about in that box while the truck flew over uneven ground, but even though the wood dug into my skin, and my feet were cramped, all the time we were moving the crate couldn't be opened. But every second of that was filled with dread and fear of when the truck would finally stop, and what would proceed after.

But as it often did, my fear came true, the breaks of the truck squealed, and we pulled to a stop. I listened to the muffled sounds of men talking, then the car door opening then slamming shut, no! don't come back here! Stay away! Please! I think my prayers have been heard when their advances stop and I could hear light laughter… but I was not so lucky. They're at the back of the truck now, and Rickon's unlocking the doors while chatting lightly with the man.

"We're mainly transporting basic supplies; food, water, first aid… that sorta stuff. Would you like to take a look?" he asked, and if possible, I griped the knife tighter. My breathing echoed in my ears, huffing dangerously loud, but any advances to stifle it seemed to have the opposite effect.

"Well it is policy to inspect incoming traffic even if it is from our own men; but I'll make it quick."

"that's fine, I understand." Rickon answers politely.

No! stay away! But I hear them working to peel off the lid of my crate. My breathing was now more like whimpering, my hands shook, but the second I see daylight, and two pairs of confused eyes looking down on me, I blindly pounced up with the knife.

No! I missed! I scratched his neck but it wasn't a deadly wound, he stumbled back in shock but he was still in striking distance. Fear struck me in the chest, my entire body was trembling, but I lunged at the stunned man again, aiming for his neck which was concealed by his hand, then I stabed him again, and again, over and over again. My mind went blank, fear had taken over and even though he was dead, his eyes of shock turned empty, I continued to stab him like a madman. His neck was a series of rough cuts and ripped flesh; among them I must have severed the correct place, or he died from shock. Either way I'd just killed a man.

I couldn't think. Numb, hot tears streamed down my face, leaving sticky trails behind, and I sucked in cool breath through my clenched teeth to steady myself. But instead, I spiral out of control. My bloody hands shake, and I force two, three, four breaths in without breathing out, hyperventilating and turning my head dizzy. The man's body slumps over the top of the crate, letting blood seep down the side and pool at my feet. I can see his face, forever frozen, twisted in an expression of defiance and shock, his dull eyes staring past me. Once, only seconds ago, this body was a man with a life and maybe a family, but now- now he was meat and bones like any other animal. I did that. I turned a man into meat.

My entire body trembled, and my mind went blank. Things were happening past me, there was a fight going on, but all that was a million miles away. I've killed a man. I could feel myself falling apart- but I couldn't let that happen. I had to harden my heart, making it so that nothing could ever hurt me. This was my life now. I will be used and abused by these monsters of men, and no one will be there to help me. Only me. I might even become a monster myself. But I will survive this, no matter what.