100 | Called Him Master

𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐄 

(Flashback continues)

"What is your name?" he screamed, his harsh voice carrying much farther than a little girl's cries. Mine. My cries.

"What is your name, girl?"

"I won't—"

But the crack and strike of the whip broke through my sobbing cries. I wanted to get up and run. I wanted to escape. But the heavy shackles around my ankles forced me to stay where I was — on my knees, naked, and at the mercy of a wretched man with no conscience.

The whipping stopped, and I tried to take a deep breath. But it hurt too much. The slightest movement made the broken skin on my back pull taut, and the burning wouldn't stop. All my senses were overpowered by pain, and for a second, I thought he might have left. It was only when I tried to push myself off the dirty gravel ground that I realized he was still standing behind me.