A young woman regains consciousness in a courtyard style space. Her arms are tied to a post making her do a t-formation, standing on her feet. The back of her shirt is shredded remnants lay on the ground around her. The red headed Brutor shakes her head as she tries to get her senses to come back to herself. Her arms ach to be untied, her back screams still feeling the sting of the whip.
Murmuring to herself, “How long was I out, how many lashes was it this time?”
One of the other servants comes out from the manor and starts to undo her arms. As both arms get finally unbound, she staggers down to her knees. The one that untied her offers her a hand and the girl raises her hand and shakes her head.
“No, I got this.”
She slowly rises to her feet after about 30 minutes, her face grimacing in pain but she takes a unsteady breath as her ice blue eyes flicker around. Understanding that she is alone, her family isn’t with her, she is a slave but one day, one day she will dance across the stars and break the shackles that bind her.
She casts a glance over her shoulder as she slowly moves to the one place where she knows they wont look for her tonight, they usually leave her alone after she gets whipped for a few hours. She looks up at the stars as the night sky becomes clear she murmurs “Save me.”
She looked at the doctor years later with a beyond the years of wisdom in her eyes as the doctor looks at her back from the tops of her shoulders all the way down to under the waistline of her pants. “Each scar is a part of me and my story. I am strong, a warrior and I survived. My scars are beautiful.”