When is it my turn? When do I get the chance to be selfish? Am i supposed to sit here and wait for your next command? Am I allowed to be angry? Can I be sad? Happy? scared? Tired? Is the day almost over? When can i sleep? Where can I sleep? Can I eat? What am I supposed to eat? Watermelon? Chips? Carrots? Ice cream? How would you like this done?
Can I,
When,
How,
What,
Am I allowed,
Am I supposed to.
All things a slave would ask, yet I seem to find myself asking them every single day.
About the Creator
Abbie Erin
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TICK TOCK
11.59. Even though the glass had shattered, Lorna could still see that her watch ticked over. One minute until midnight. Her watch was the only thing she had that she could carry. The only thing to remember her parents by. A birthday present from last year, the year she turned seventeen.
By Elizabeth Butler4 days ago in Fiction
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