The Corridor And The Rose-They Had Gotten Most Of Us

The men threw me in the back of the covered wagon. The first thing that hit me was the almost unbearable smell of persperation. I assume that people sweat in ninety degree weather, and when they know their death is coming.

It felt like I had been punched in the stomach when I sat down next to Abigale, Millie’s nine year old daughter. They had gotten her, too. I couldn’t breathe for a moment, seeing the fear in her eyes and the chains on her hands.

Sitting across from me, I saw Ian. His blue eyes were unstill, back and forth between me and the ground. The tan skin of his face streaked in sweat and dirt.

No one spoke as the wagon began moving. Jill, Millie’s sister began weeping. Weeping for Abigale, weeping for Millie, weeping for herself, I suppose.

My heart was pounding so hard I thought I would have a heart attack right then and there.

I looked at each face. I knew each one. They had been my family for so long. The men had gotten most of us, but not all. There was still hope.

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