_LoveSuicidexo

Chapter 1 Part 2
 

           I had realized that I had started to grind my teeth, but I have no intentions to stop. Say yes, Kalvan, I thought to myself, silently pleading for a miracle to happen; silently crying that Calejah wouldn’t take out his whip. Kalvan had to be at least sixty years old, and it was certain that he would not be able to survive getting sixty lashes.

            That is how we take care of punishments here in Temar. One lash for every year the guilty man or woman had been alive, or sometimes they would just get beat, send to prison, or sometimes even worse things one could never imagine. I remember my first time getting punished. I was nine.
Our school went to the community prison, which is really just a cement building with small individual holes in the walls with metal bars stood as doors. I had noticed that the inmates looked tired and hungry, so I snuck away from my group and took some food. I went to each individual cell and handed everybody what I could grab. I was caught of course, and given nine fine lashes to my back.
            “No,” Kalvan answered steadily.
            I tried to restrain myself from saying anything. Calejah smirked, and walked around Kalvan. He looked around at all of us. He looked into my eyes for a brief, ice cold second.
            “Well then,” Calejah said, shooting an evil grin, “unless someone else would like to step up, we shall proceed with the punishment.”
            I looked around the large sea of people surrounding Calejah, Kalvan and a handful of guards. I saw a few teenagers laughing and making bets between each other on what punishment might be given, and whether or not Kalvan would survive. My throat dry, my feet aching with nerves shooting up to my knees, I stepped forward.
            Calejah looked at me, so did Kalvan.
            “No, Samariah,” Kalvan said, giving me a stern look, “I can take it,”
            Everyone was looking at me, though I could only see Kalvan standing with me. I don’t remember ever giving Kalvan my name, but I brushed off the question. There was a more important question hanging in the air.
            “How many would you get?” I asked him. I could tell that he was going to deny my sacrifice for him, but to my surprise he answered.
            “Sixty-nine,” Kalvan let out. He is modest, and denies help from me.
            “Seventeen is better than sixty-nine,” I said, putting my hands on his and looking into his lost gray eyes, “I will take the punishment for this man.”
            “Samariah, are you sure?”
            I nodded, and with that, Kalvan was pushed aside by some guards, and all eyes were fixed on me. I watched as his children and grandson hug him with tears in their eyes. Everyone watched as I placed my hands on the wooden bar in front of me. Calejah took out his whip with a firm grip, and began hitting.
            I was caught off guard when the first one came, causing me to scream. I held in the pain with the others, and as the last couple hit my back, I crumbled into a ball on the dirt ground. I could feel myself tearing up, as Calejah walked away with a glare in his dark brown eyes.
            My father is standing over me now, reaching down to carry me back to our home. He tried to be as gentle as he could while lifting my bleeding body, though the smallest amount of pressure causes agonizing pain. I could see in his eyes that he wasn’t happy, but he would never be caught admitting it. 

 

Chapter 1 Part 1
 

            The time is 12:06, midday. The community is silent, as another punishment is thrust upon an elderly man who had been accused of stealing bread from another’s home just a week ago. The man is dressed in rags and smells distinctly like sweat along with a mix of the rustic smell of the warmed Earth. Judging by the look in his tired face, it could be said that he is very fragile and broken. However, the way he stood with his back erect, and held his head up to the sky, it is obvious that he is a proud man.
            Poverty has a way of working itself into the bones of a man, though. It has the significant power that can make any strong man weak and grow mentally or physically insane. Naturally, any person could stare at any impoverished man and see either one of two things; sorrow or bitterness.
            With this being said, does that necessarily mean that this old man would steal? No. Do I think that he committed the crime? Absolutely not; in fact- I know he didn’t do it. But the leader of our community, Calejah, does not believe that he is ever wrong. A single bell sounds, indicating that everyone should be in the community square now. The silent scene begins, starting with Calejah’s firm and booming voice.
            “Kalvan Cedric Moore, are you aware of your charges against the laws of the community of Temar?” Calejah asked.
            “Yes, sir,” Kalvan said slowly and quietly.
            Temar is the name of our small, secluded community. It is surrounded by a ten foot high electric fence and one gate that is located on the North side. We are located at approximately 40 degrees south and 145 degrees east (this is just about as much information as I remember from old geography lessons back in school). We hardly ever receive any snow; however come nightfall the temperature can reduce as low as 4 degrees Celsius. And all though we usually receive a fare amount of rain through the seasons, we’ve been in a drought for nearly five months.
            “Do you deny your charge of stealing from another man?” Calejah continued, looking down upon Kalvan.