This particular afternoon we decided to play ‘slaves’. In this game we would take it in turns to be the ‘slave’, and do whatever the other pe...son wanted. This time it was Charlottes turn to be the slave, which meant that I was the master! I liked it best that way. The game started off simply, I’d ask her to tidy my room, find a toy I’d lost, fold my clothes, that sort of thing, but if she did something wrong there was a forfeit. The first forfeit was to get undressed, I guess because it. "Sorry for what you did or sorry that you didn't manage to get away?" I'm worried what's going to happen to me. It won't happen again." Hmm." I didn't believe her for an instant."Are you hungry?"She nodded."Do you like pizza?"She nodded again. "Can I have some more Coke?" It'll rot your teeth."I withered under her look of total disdain.I sliced a large pizza into six segments, allowing us to eat it without the need for implements. She burped with the gas from the fizzy drink."Have you spoken to. Each warrior would carry his knife. And as he came, he would make a small incision in the man’s flesh and suck a mouthful of his blood. As the debauchery would reach a frenzied pitch, some would enter where others had cut, sometimes four or five at one time. The victim would endure this with increasing despair as each cut and thrust rammed his lifeblood out. And when the spirit would finally leave him, the warriors would silt his throat and pour out any remaining blood into a great bowl. . Her mouth twitched. "They do, and right now I hate them. There are lines I refuse to cross, and I've encountered one."I wasn't sure if she meant she hated the life we lived, or the people who stayed with us. I guess it didn't really matter.She wasn't there the next morning, though she'd left me a note. I knew school started at 9:00, so I had a leisurely breakfast and a wild trip down the hill on my new bike. Cynthia was surprised to see me, but seemed mollified by a promise to tell her more.
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