All Chapters of Enslaved to Zion: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Laying my head back on the pillow, I curl up and hug up as much of the blanket as I can. There are so many emotions going on in my heart right now. For one thing, I'm angry. I'm so beyond furious at the men who took me away from my home, away from my father, away from my happy life. I was perfectly fine far away from all the people who want to hurt me this way. And I'm sad. Actually, sad is clearly an understatement, but I can't think of a better word at the moment. Not that I'm dumb or uneducated. It's just that there aren't any adjectives that I feel correctly express my pain. The loss of my father has cut me deeply, but it feels so unreal, so impossible that I don't think I'm even truly allowing myself to accept that he's gone and process the grief. I'm relieved that I have met this woman named Akida. She has been the only person, other than the woman who offered me water at the auction house, who has truly shown me compassion, sympathy, and kindness, since this all began. Hav

Anna follows my master out, and a jolly looking bow tied man closes the door behind them. Finally, I can relax my tired muscles and just breathe! As soon as I catch hold of my nerves, Elise also breathes a sigh of relief, and begins to giggle. I'm beginning to notice that she does a lot of that. Apparently, she's thinking of something hilarious because the look on her face is one of absolute entertainment. "Is something funny?", I ask her, so confused as to how she could laugh after the tension in the room was just so thick, it could be cut with a knife. "Oh, I'm sorry, it's nothing. I've just never seen him touch a woman before.", she explains, thoroughly amused. "I've worked as one of his attendants here for five years, and every day, I see maids swooning over him left and right. I was beginning to think he prefers the company of other men, if you know what I mean. It turns out he just needed himself a little damsel in distress, is all." I do not, in fact, know what she mean

Sit? Sit! Panicking, I look around briefly for the place that makes the most sense. Unfortunately, my flustered brain decides that right where I stand is the best option, and plop right down on my sore knees, thankful for the soft rug beneath me. For a few moments, he continues to watch the television. He appears to be okay with my placement, momentarily. But then, he turns to me. I avoid eye contact by staring forward at a button on the sofa cushion. This displeases him greatly. His chisled jaw moves along with the gritting of his teeth, as he scowls. My heart sinks further down into my gut, with every pulse of hot blood through the protruding vein in his neck. What in the celestial stars is going through his mind right now? As if hearing the question in my thoughts, a deep sigh leaves his lips in reply. He leans forward, bending down to meet my gaze, and we lock eyes with our faces only an inch apart. The ice in his eyes has been replaced by fire. "We could have done this the e

Writing in this cursed diary is such a daunting task, but Akida insists that it's beneficial to my mental well being, so here's to following doctor's orders. At least I have an interesting topic to write about in this entry, instead of droning on about business deals and prototypes. I was out to bid on some new properties today, and something a bit unexpected, to say the least, occurred at the auction house. I'm now the owner of a slave. She's quite a pretty little thing, actually. I suppose I didn't really intend on things turning out this way, but when I saw her, I just couldn't let someone else snatch her away. There's something about her that just pulls me in. I'm all too well aware that I'm no saint, but the thought of her being sold to one of those fat old devils was too much for even my dark heart to bear. The other bidders looked like lions, ready to pounce on her, like weak prey. She wouldn't even stand a chance against those pot bellied heathens. Mr. Nashira is well kno

"Euroah?", calls the voice of my father. "Euroah, wake up, little sleepy head." I blink a few times before finally opening my eyes. To my surprise, I glance around to see not a fancy chamber of white, but my old room, back on the farm. The warmth of the sun's rays peeps through the aged curtains on the creaky, old paned windows. In the air, floats the scent of Father's coffee. I'm home! My simple room, the quilt that my mother stitched by hand, in the months before I was born, my little wardrobe of colorful clothing, everything is right where it belongs! All is just how it should be. This can't be real! How did I get here? Have I been dreaming this whole time? Has all of this been some strange nightmare? I knew that television, thing couldn't exist in real life! "Father!", I cry out. "Rise and shine, little lady! We've got work to do!", he calls back to me. I throw the covers off and jump out of bed. My feet hit the floor, running for the kitchen, where I just know he must