Owned? - Chapter 93：Caesar’s story [ How they met]

Caesar [9 years old]

A person is nothing without power and money and a normal person is absolutely nothing. Go further down, the poor are like ants which can be stepped on just because one felt like doing it.

After all, what can an ant say?

It can’t voice itself.

Just like us.

The people who live in the slums are like that and me and my mother had been living there for a year now.

In the evening I came back from work covered in dirt with a piece of bread and some pickles.

I went into the small tent made of many different pieces of cloths sewn together.

“I’m back.” I told her while she sat in the middle of the side. I walked to her and sat down in front of her, “Hand.” I told her and she presented me with her palm. I took the knife and cut the bread in half, then made a slice in the centre to stuff it with all the pickles I had.

After that I handed it to my mother, “Eat.”

“What about you?”

“I have my share.” I began eating the empty bread as the light began to fade from the sky. We ate in silence.

“Caesar?”

“Hmm?” I worked extra hard today for the pickles so I felt more tired than usual.

“Why don’t you talk now a days? You used to talk a lot when you were younger.” She finished her food and raised her hands to search for me, “You’re here right?”

Her injury didn’t kill her but it took her sight away.

“I’m here.” I held her hand and brought it to my face, “Where else would I be?” I sighed.

My gaze landed on the broken sword, “Why do you still have that? I told you to throw it away.”

“It’s a family legacy.” She knew what I was talking about, “It was the only thing I could manage to sneak with me ‘that’ day. It’s important.”

I stood up, “Sleep.” And walked to the mat on the other side and laid down.

That sword would never be of any use to us. To keep it just because it is a family heirloom is just stupid.

I’ve only put up with it because it was from my mother’s side. If it belonged to my father I would have thrown it away ages ago.

***

I woke up early in the morning and got ready to go to work. I worked near the mines so I had to walk a lot.

I glanced at my mother, she was still asleep.

I walked out of the tent, just as I took a step out she spoke, “Leaving already?” She sat up.

“I have to go earlier today.” I got out of the tent and was about to leave when something caught my eye, or rather someone.

A boy, who looked about my age was trotting his way towards the tents.

He seemed worn out, his eyes showed the exhaustion he had been through.

He managed to walk till our tent and looked at me but before he could say anything he collapsed on the ground.

I was alarmed when he fell.

“Hey!” I grabbed him in my arms, “Hey! Are you okay?” He didn’t respond.

“Is something wrong?” Mom asked me from inside.

“Yes.” I held his upper arms and pulled him inside the tent, “This kid appeared out of nowhere and collapsed in front of the tent.”

“Oh, poor child. Give him to me.” She held him and brought him to her lap, “He’s dirtier than you are.”

“Yea…” I looked at his foreign features and the first thing that came to my mind was that even with all the dirt he was pretty, “I’m leaving. I’ll be late otherwise.”

“Okay.”

***

In the evening I came back with some food and saw that he was still asleep.

“He didn’t wake up?”

“No.”

“Hmmm.”

I went and sat in front of mom and cut the bread in half but stopped. I looked at the boy and then cut the bread into three pieces.

I got some meat today so I divided it into three parts and stuffed the bread with it.

“Hand.” Mom presented me with hers and I gave her the bread.

At that moment I heard him move, more like sniff.

His eyes shot open and he sat straight up while the first thing he looked at was the bread in mom’s hand.

He didn’t move or say anything. He just kept staring at it.

“Here.” I gave him the piece I cut for him. He looked at me in fear, “It’s okay. Eat.”

I then began eating mine from the other hand and after seeing that he hesitantly took the food. Biting from it slowly.

While I ate, I noticed his honey colored eyes and blonde lashes.

“Why did you come here?” I asked him when he finished.

“Kidnapped.” He stated and I furrowed my brows, “I was kidnapped.” It seemed like his voice was dry so I got him a glass of water.

He chugged it down immediately and took a deep breath after that. Like some life had been restored in him, “I was running away from the kidnappers.”

“Where are you from?” Mom asked him and he seemed a bit reluctant to answer.

“If you don’t want to answer that’s fine. But you can’t stay here.” I told him, “I can’t bring food for three people everyday.”

He looked down in shame, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine… Go to sleep now.” I walked over to my mat and then made some space for him, “Come here.”

He did as he was told and lay next to me.

“I don’t mean to be a burden.” He whispered.

I closed my eyes as I faced the other way, “Sleep.”