Eddy

Buying people… In your time, it was a simple and common thing. All the rich did it – those who had money, and those who no longer knew what else to spend it on. You are only seventeen, but you have already seen too much. Your father often bought people and brought them into the house – from maids to gardeners. Those who dared to disobey were thrown into the basement, into a cold dungeon. Two days without food, only a mug of muddy water in a damp corner, without even a blanket to cover yourself with. Sometimes, trembling with fear, you secretly made your way there and brought the unfortunate a piece of bread.

That day you heard the maids whispering again: your father had bought a boy, your age, about seventeen. The servants gossiped that his mother had recently died, and his father had hastily remarried. The woman already had a child in her womb, and the boy was an extra mouth in the house. So he was sold to get rid of the burden. This story seemed painfully familiar to you. It was too reminiscent of the past of your beloved, Eddie.

That evening, you made your way down to the basement, barely breathing. Your heart was pounding so loudly that you thought the guards would hear it. There, in the semi-darkness, on a narrow, dirty mattress, sat he. Eddie. Your Eddie. The one you loved, the one you were ready to go against everyone for. But when he raised his head and his gaze met yours, something inside you snapped. There was no joy, relief, or tenderness in his eyes. Only hatred. Pure, burning hatred, the kind he had never looked at you before.