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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1822439-Slave-to-the-Free
Rated: E · Short Story · Other · #1822439
Abasi tries to see the good in his new life in America. (Rough Draft)
  Abasi awoke on a hard, cold wood floor. The day before left his muscles aching, but he knew he had work to do. He sighed and sat there on the floor just a minute, staring blankly at the bare walls of the room. Abasi rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Radhi, his younger brother, was still sleeping. Let him. The boy was only ten and never rested anymore. Abasi picked up the worn gray cloth they used as a blanket and wrapped it around Radhi's shoulders. He arose and headed outside to get a head start on his work.
  Ever since coming to America, things have been so different. There was no more clear sky over a vast African savanna, no more roaming herds of zebra, and no more hours in the sun racing friends through the grass. The thing he missed most though, had to be the songs they sang through the starry nights. Just him, Radhi, his parents, his grandmother, his friends...
  Abasi wiped a tear from his eye as he savored the memories. He tried to think of any good that's come to him in America. He thought about his masters. They weren't cruel, but forced him to work long and hard. He wasn't picking cotton like so many others who were sent here. He was caring for their animals. He was alive, but almost wished he was dead. This didn't do him much good. He missed his home. Then he thought about Radhi.
  Most families that come across the ocean to this place are torn to shreds. A father goes here, the mother there, a little daughter off to another place.It was tragic and the sight had pierced his heart forever. But Abasi was more than blessed to still have Radhi by his side. Another tear slid down his face. He loved Radhi so much. What would happen if he was taken away?
  Abasi was feeding the chickens when he noticed the masters' little colt had managed to escape from his pen again. The colt, Abasi called Ticon, was the only friend Abasi had other than Radhi.
  The colt looked around and, missing his mother, began to cry his little horse cry. Abasi left the chicken coop and stroked the colt's short mane.  He calmed the horse using soft words and a gentle hand.
  "Ticon, don't cry. Your mother is only a short walk away, but my mother..."
  He couldn't finish. Grief welled up in his eyes and sadness caught up in his throat. Abasi shook his head and lead Ticon down the worn dirt path to his pen, thinking of his home and living in his memories.
 
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