I sat on my beautiful, gold and jelewed throne as I watched the poor, innocent man being whipped repeatively.
The man had been sentenced to whipping because he did not have the money to pay the horrible taxes my father, the pharaoh, had laid upon his people. He told us he was un-named, but I highly doubted that.
As I stared in blank horror, he collapesed. The man had been whipped until he had fainted. I was so scared he had died that I rushed off of my thorne and kneeled at his side.
Then, as I kneeled, I heard my father yell, "If you touch one hair n that piece of filth, your fate shall be the same!" "I do not care father, I do not care..."
The man's eyes gently opened as I poored the cool, fresh water over his face. I helped him sit up and he stared at me for what seemed to be years. Then he finally but very shakily, "Isis, thank the heavens you have come. Save me Isis, save me from this blood swollen body."
"Iam not Isis sir. I am simply Ira, the pharaoh's daughter." He asked why I had helped him and I whispered, "I am nothing like my father, nothing at all like my father..." To be continued...
 The Huntress Artemis · Sat Nov 29, 2008 @ 06:42pm · 1 Comments |
