The Life of an Egyptian Slave

These soldiers came barging in our home taking my family and I. All I could ever think about is, “What is going on?” The soldiers have taken my wife and daughter away from my son and I. I was angry when they separated us. I pushed the soldier to the ground and ran to my wife and daughter, but then, the soldiers took me down and started beating me. Once they stopped, they picked me up and took my son and I with a bunch of other men. We all went in the back of this huge cart with a cage that they stuck us in. It was nighttime, and we are still traveling through the desert in the back of the cart with the guards, placed front and back, riding camels. “Are my wife and daughter okay? Are they safe? What is going on?” I could not get one answer to any of my questions from the guards. As I was going to go to sleep, I took one last glance at the night sky, which is the only thing that was still beautiful at a horrible time like this.

Morning has come, and for some reason we have stopped by this river. The guards are mocking us by drinking their water and letting it go to waste by giving it to their camels also. As I look over, I see my son talking to this other boy. “What’s wrong?” I ask. “The boy lost his father when the soldiers took him, and his father refused to go on the cart making the soldiers beat him to death,” he said. “What a horrible thing to do…” I think to myself as we continued trekking through the desert. It came to endless sand hills for days until we arrived to this town with a huge palace in the middle of it. The guards let us out and led us to the palace where they finally began to feed us. But come to find out, it was only water and burnt meat. When we were done eating, they took us to the Pharaoh’s room where he began to order us to build him this oddly shaped tower for his grave and his family’s grave. I believe he called it a pyramid, and he said it would be the first pyramid ever built. He also said the pyramid is a symbol of the sun’s rays and when he dies and is placed in the pyramid, he will then rise up into the sky and live forever.

As we were going out of town after the Pharaoh’s room, we walked for hours through the desert. The Pharaoh said he wanted the ‘pyramid’ to be a hidden secret so no one can discover it. We kept walking and walking for hours and hours to the point when I looked over, I saw a guy fall over from exhaustion. The guards kept whipping him endlessly. They picked him up, tied him to a rope attached to the back of the camel and made him run as the camel galloped. “If they keep this up, are they going to kill us? Are we going to be free after we are done building this pyramid?” I frantically thought to myself.

Nighttime has come, and the soldiers put all of us in one room. The smell was terrible, smelling like dead corpses of some sort and blood. This led me to assume that this room is where we are going to sleep, but the room was found to be empty. We had to sleep on the floor with nothing to keep us warm except body heat pressing against one another. My son and I took the corner of the room and cuddled up against each other, praying for hope. We somberly hoped that we would be kept safe along with my wife and daughter. As the candle begins to fade, I took one last look at these men and thought to myself, “Let us all be safe and for this be done as soon as possible.”

The routine was redundant, again and again; we have been here for months, so many months. I can’t even begin to remember how many. Over half of the men that we came here with have already starved to death or died from abuse. But more men had arrived and joined us, making the numbers more than what we came with, causing the guards to become more and more violent. I glanced down at myself, noticing all of scars the guards have caused, my body slowly becoming smaller and smaller from the food we barely receive, and my leathery skin from the hot blazing sun days. The pyramid, then, was over halfway done, making me think of how soon we can be released free and go home, and hopefully my wife and daughter remain okay. There were a lot of workers talking to each other, “What is wrong?” I asked, one worker said, “We are halfway done. We have already made and put up over a million stone blocks, and if we finish it, it will be over 2 million stone blocks!” This left me in awe because I can’t imagine building and making that many blocks, after all the sweltering labor.

The laboriously filled days led to my son’s final despair and mine. While I was working, I look over to find my son, and I see that he has gotten in a fight with one of the guards. As I quickly rush over to help, there were already four guards, present, whipping him. The Pharaoh walks by and orders the guards to put him into this empty large hole, full of stinging scorpions and rattling snakes. When they put him in there, I hear him crying, “No…!” pleading for my help. I really do want to help, but if I do, I will face a punishment far worse than his. “What should I do?” after a few minutes of thinking to myself, I decide I will help my son. I run to the guards, approaching one, and I take his whip. I whip this guard fiercely and with no feeling. The other guards ran to assist him, but to their demise, I whip them also, leaving them injured. When they show that they could not even stand, I run to the hole where they put my son in. I peek over, and I find that he is already dead. This leaves me in anger, anger raging through my veins. I proceeded towards the guards, without looking back; I start whipping relentlessly until they take their final breath. I look over to see the guards coming after me, I quickly run to the top of the half finished pyramid. As they surround me, leaving me with no escape, I’m not sure what to do. I see the Pharaoh walking towards me, and as he whispers to the guards, he leaves me in a wonderment of what was shared. The guards quickly grab me and tie me down with a rope. They carry me to this one opening on the bottom of the pyramid. They shove me in an empty and enclosed room. I ask, “What are you going to do to me? You can’t kill me because I’m already dead inside after your soldiers killed my son.” The Pharaoh unapologetically walks by and says, “Oh we aren’t going to kill you; we are going to leave you here, in this dark and dreary room, to starve to your own death.” Then the Pharaoh and his guarded entourage slowly close the entrance with a sturdy and massive block that I helped make with my sweat and blood. I am left in the dark room with utter silence visually and auditorily. “This is not how I wanted my life to end…” I tell myself. And the darkness takes over.

Post to Twitter

No comments yet.

Leave a Reply