"Bring the niggas, Bring the niggas", they shouted.
We were led to the platform, linked together in chains. Babies were being snatched from their mothers amid wailings and crying, young women were stripped bare, you could hear the excruciating melody of the whips as it went up and landed on the scathed brown skins.
"Ten dollars, going, going, gone, sold to that fine gentleman" the auctioneer shouted.
I looked at him, he was shedding tears, I could feel his pain, being separated from his wife and newly born son. He tried to reach out to them, but the melody of the whips resounded, sending a jolt of agony to his brain. The shouts of "whip that nigga" rose up from the crowd.
A young boy was sold for nine dollars, he wanted to cry but couldn't, he was frightened to cry in front so many strangers, strangers who had no iota of sympathy or pity, he trembled, and cleaned the tears from his cheeks with the back of his hands.
I knew it'd get to my turn, I just stood there with tears rolling down my cheeks, wondering what it would feel like to live free.
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