“I’ve witnessed enough,” I interrupt. “But I don’t care. I’d rather be dead than end up like…” My voice trails off. I know I shouldn’t say this to my mother. “Look at us,” I sigh. “We’re worse off than dead. We’re nobodies. I have to find myself.”
My mother closes her eyes for a moment. When she looks up at me again, her gaze is decisive.
“I’ll go see the master.” She rises to her feet. “I’ll plead for him to change his mind, to let you remain here.”
“No!” I exclaim, stepping between her and the door. “Please don’t! Can’t you understand? It’s my only chance to make something of myself, become something better than a picker. I have to leave this place!”
She lowers her head, looking all heartbroken and hurt. I suddenly want to hug her. I crave my mother’s support and love, but all I seem to get is her doubts.
“I’m just scared for you,” she says quietly.
“You’re always scared!” I snap. “I don’t want to be like you.”
She shivers, as if I’ve just slapped her.
“I’m sorry,” I hurriedly add. “I didn’t really mean all that. But I have to go now.”
If only she asked me to stay, if only she told me how much she loves and needs me… But my mother remains silent. She sits back down on her blanket, looking away. I approach the pile of clothes in another corner and begin digging around.
“You don’t need to worry about me,” I mutter sheepishly. “Most likely, nobody will buy me today anyway. I mean, I don’t really think any master will want me for his servant.”
My mother doesn’t have anything to say.
I grab my only good dress and shoes from the floor and leave the shack. I walk along the street, kicking clods of dirt and pieces of rubbish as I go. I press my teeth together so hard that my jaws begin to ache. I wonder what kind of person I’ve become if I’m so rude and mean toward my own mother. I rethink our conversation and suddenly feel disgusted. I have too much anger and hatred inside me. I hate this village, hate most of the servants, hate my life, hate myself.
I know there’s a better, kinder version of me hidden away somewhere deeply inside. But the angry, depressed version of Kora usually takes over. As long as I remain stuck in this village, I won’t be able to change. Life here suffocates and ruins you. I have no choice but escape this place.
You’ll be all right, I calm myself. You’ll start a new life and transform into a better and nicer Kora. You’ll earn your freedom, become wealthy and return for your mother. You’ll take her out of here and give her the life she truly deserves.
I smile, feeling optimistic. I have to believe in myself because there’s nobody else to support me.
I decide it’s time to prepare for the Exchange.
I approach a wide shallow river and kneel down at the edge of the muddy water. I pull off my shirt and wash off.
“Hey puke!”
I turn around and a dirt clod hits me in the head. I hear a burst of laughter.
“What are you doing out here, pig?” Samantha asks. “There’s no use in washing your face. It will always be filthy.”
Shivering, I wipe the dirt out of my eyes. Five factory girls walk toward me, grinning and cackling.
“Get away from me!” I yell. “I’ve been selected for the Exchange!”
I don’t know why I choose to share this information with them. It only causes them to laugh louder. Samantha picks up my dress from the ground.
“Don’t touch that!” I scream, reaching toward her.
Two girls grip my arms and drag me further into the river. They push me down so I fall onto my hands and knees. Samantha tosses my dress into the soft clay along the river bank. She stomps it into the mud, laughing and calling me names. The other girls gleefully join in, helping her to trash my only nice piece of clothing. I don’t do anything. I just watch quietly, kneeling in the water, head lowered. I think of Trent, but he’s not here at the moment. I think of things I could do to defend myself, but don’t have the guts to do them.
“Forget about the Exchange!” one of the girls shouts. “Nobody will buy a swine like you. You’re staying right here.”
They leave.
I look at my ruined dress and begin crying. At the moment it seems like crying is the only option left.
CHAPTER 3
I spend the next ten minutes sitting in the water, sobbing and contemplating suicide. I always resort to thinking about killing myself when I’m past my limit. These are not serious thoughts of course, nor do I believe I’d ever really do it. But having these thoughts provide some sense of relief, helping me feel like I still have control over something. So I often imagine myself with cut wrists, gun wounds or my body hanging from a tree. Pathetic, I know, but still somehow soothing.
But even as I weep uncontrollably, part of my brain is busy calculating the next thing I should do. No matter what happens, I can’t miss the Exchange or my chance to make a new life. I can’t allow Samantha or her evil friends to defeat me so easily.
So I stop with the sobbing, wash off my face, and pull myself out of the water. I pick up my dress and carefully examine the damage. It’s actually not as bad as I had thought. The fabric is stained and coated with mud, but not
