The SlaveIt is funny how the good memories – the stuff you think you’ll cherish forever – come back to haunt your dreams. The little things, like the smile on your baby sister’s face and the sensation of your mother’s arms around you or your father’s stupid jokes, are what come back to hurt your soul. It is probably why I haven’t slept more than thirty minutes at a stretch for the past thirteen years. If I sleep, that is. The only time I sleep is when my insomniac spell cause a total system shutdown because my brain can’t take it any longer.The Slave2 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
One of the reasons they hurt more has a lot to do with the fact that I’m the reason I’m left alone with these memories. I’m the reason my family was executed and there is no sugar-coating it. It wasn’t a childish stint for independence or rebellion that lead to my family’s discovery. It wasn’t a damned accident. I went to the officials and told them where to find my family.