Jazmee27 
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Then, one day the kind guard was absent, and Sajivreya felt truly alone. His strength began to diminish too fast, partly from lack of nourishment and partly from the daily whippings and beatings.
Still, the child refused to speak to anyone. He’d sometimes envision having a dialogue with himself, something like this: “You’ve gotta remain strong, Sajivreya. These demons don’t deserve even a second of your time.”
The six-year-old often went to bed so ravenous he could barely stand it. At least, that’s how it was at first. But then, all the blood he’d lost during the day made him feel sick and tired. He’d curl up in the corner, more and more miserable by the day. “When,” he asked himself, “will it ever end?”
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Reply #1401. Jul 01 12, 9:09 AM
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Jazmee27
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======
He often thought about his parents. He didn’t have many memories of either, nor did he know what had become of them. He remembered is Mother used to sing the most beautiful lullabies, and his Father always told the best stories he’d ever heard. Clinging to these memories comforted Sajivreya immensely.
He also liked to think of Sikradu Kavata, his one and only friend. Sikradu had a brother Sajivreya’s age, but he and Mehnyana never got along. Sikradu, though, he’d spend hours ttalking to Sajivreya, or show off his latest toy, and they’d play until Sikradu’s Mama said it was time to stop. The young prisoner sighed. He missed those days, but doubted he’d ever see his friend again. “Why are they doing this to me,” he asked for what felt like the billionth time.
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Reply #1402. Jul 01 12, 9:11 AM
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Jazmee27
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That night, Sajivreya saw Sikradu in his dreams. “It’ll be over soon,” his friend promised, “and no matter what, I’ll find a way to you.” The older boy’s eyes were more serious than Sajivreya had ever seen them, and they appeared to be conveying a message all their own: “I’ll avenge you. I’ll avenge you.” For the first time since his capture, Sajivreya Mozyativa wept bitterly, the tears coursing down his cheeks in a torrent. He let it all go, the constant fear, the helplessness. When he found he could weep no more, the six-year-old felt a kind of peace stole over him. The end was truly near.
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Reply #1403. Jul 01 12, 9:12 AM
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Jazmee27
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The next morning the sun was blinding as it slanted through the bars. Not long after he awoke, the guards came to fetch him, dragging the six-year-old by the hair like they often did. Sajivreya didn’t even flinch, didn’t allow a flicker of expression into his eyes. The sun beat down on him, scorching every bit of exposed flesh.
The child’s wrists and ankles were bound securely to a metal post, the knots so tight that Sajivreya soon lost all feeling in his limbs. The sun continued to beat down unmercilessly, causing untold blisters to form on his tender skin. The six-year-old bit back every scream, every groan of anguish. He watched his captors disappear into the glaring sunlight, knew they’d only return after he was dead, knew he couldn’t last much longer. Already, the pain was unbearable.
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Reply #1404. Jul 01 12, 9:14 AM
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Jazmee27
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The photos hit the newsstands the next morning: “PRISONER DIES OF SUN EXPOSURE.” Anyone who’d known Sajivreya Mozyativa was shocked by the treatment he’d endured. “Like him or not,” one reader commented, “one can’t help but tremble with fury at the brutality of such injustice.” The reporter of one of the headlines remarked that, although he’d never known the child, he felt sick to his stomach at the thought of any Mnoibrvanan, or anyone else for that matter, being subjected to such torture. “What is this Universe coming to,” he asked, “when children as young as a few days or weeks are caught in the middle of our latest war, yet another struggle in a long list of struggles in the fight against Light and Dark.”
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Reply #1405. Jul 01 12, 9:15 AM
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Jazmee27
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The Kavata family held a funeral for Sajivreya Mozyativa. There was a larger turnout than they’d expected but, as one citizen commented, “us natives have to stick together. Only then can there be any hope.”
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Reply #1406. Jul 01 12, 9:16 AM
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Jazmee27
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I FOUND THE END OF THAT ONE PARTICULARLY PITTIFUL
OF THE THREE, I LIKED THE SECOND VERSION (not my best work, but not bad either)
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Reply #1407. Jul 01 12, 9:18 AM
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Jazmee27
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DRAFT FOUR
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He was only five years old when the Dark snuffed out his life. I remember being shocked when I saw his picture plastered all over the front page. What was the Universe coming to when innocent boys could be beaten and left to dry up in the sun? I felt a wave of sadness wash over me. How differently might things have turned out had Sajivreya’s parents survived past the week of his birth? Most of all, though, I was sad for myself. He and I were playmates, although he was my brother’s age. I never did understand why Sajivreya preferred me over Mehnyana.
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Reply #1408. Jul 01 12, 9:19 AM
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Jazmee27
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I remember the day he went missing as clear as if it were just last week, not untold years. It was so hot that day everyone was scurrying around like rats looking for someplace cool. Sajivreya was living with us, the adoption having been made final a few days before. That was another thing I never did get, why the laws of our home were so strict it took years upon years to finalize anything. Mama and Papa were overjoyed to have Sajivreya in the family, as was I. Mehnyana was more subdued but, then again, it always took him a while to get used to stuff.
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Reply #1409. Jul 01 12, 9:21 AM
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Jazmee27
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=====
That day Mehnyana and I decided to play, as we usually did. We invited Sajivreya to join us, but he said he had something he was working on. He often did stuff like that, just asked to be left by himself. Spent a lot of time in his room, which was always neat and clean so no one could tell what he’d been up to.
Anyway, we didn’t realize at first he wasn’t in the house, and by the time we did it looked like it was going to storm, so we couldn’t go looking for him. We were going to begin searching the next day, but we didn’t need to as his photo was right there. Staring us in the face, his eyes fixed straight ahead , seeming to stare at nothing. His wrists and ankles were bound behind him and fastened to a metal pole. I ached to see him in such an uncomfortable position. A closer look revealed that he was bleeding heavily, from where it was unclear. The sun scorched the ground where he sat helpless, and my gut twisted as I found, and held, his brown eyes. “Forgive us,” I pleaded silently.
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Reply #1410. Jul 01 12, 9:22 AM
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Jazmee27
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“Mama,” I heard Mehnyana say in a frightened voice, and I looked across the table to see him tugging at her skirts, “Mama, what he do to ‘serve that?” My gut twisted again as I gazed into his frightened face. My brother was only six, too young to have to learn such a hard lesson.
I’ll never forget how Mama stopped reading and reached over, pulling Mehnyana onto her lap. “Sometimes,” she began in a tremulous voice, “we don’t do anything. The Dark just select us for unjust treatment. I wish it weren’t so, but—“ She paused, and I could tell she was trying hard not to cry.
“Saji no hurt anyone,” my brother whimpered, “so why he punish?” Mama’s arms tightened around him, and she looked over at me. I stared at her, wondering what she was asking of me. I didn’t know how to explain any better than she did. I was just as scared and confused as Mehnyana. If They could do this to Sajivreya, to one of the quietest, most gentle souls I’d ever known, than what was to stop them doing the same to all of us?
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Reply #1411. Jul 01 12, 9:24 AM
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Jazmee27
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DRAFT FIVE
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The brown eyes seemed to stare out of the page, pinning me in my chair. WHERE WERE YOU, they said, WHEN THE DARK WERE SLOWLY KILLING ME? WHEN THEY TORE APART MY FAMILY? WHEN THEY HURT THOSE I LOVED MOST? I stared into those eyes, awash with a mix of unfamiliar emotions. Shame and guilt and sadness, all wrapped into one neat little package. I wanted to apologize, but how could I? The eyes were dead, lifeless, staring at me from the front page of the Mnoibrivvahnan newspaper.
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Reply #1412. Jul 01 12, 9:25 AM
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Jazmee27
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That day, the day the news came out saying the Xynorans killed six-year-old Sajivreya Mahzyatiyva, I couldn’t concentrate on my work. All I could see was a pair of lifeless brown eyes, gazing contemptuously at those who’d murdered him. YOU DON’T KNOW ME, the eyes seemed to scream, SO WHAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO JUDGE? WHAT RIGHT HAVE YOU TO DECIDE WHO LIVES AND DIES? WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO DETERMINE OUR FUTURES, TO DICTATE WHAT WE SHOULD AND SHOULDN’T DO?
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Reply #1413. Jul 01 12, 9:26 AM
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Jazmee27
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I FOUND DRAFT FOUR TO BE THE MOST UNREALISTIC ONE SO FAR. THE FIFTH ONE'S INCOMPLETE, YES, BUT I LIKED IT, SO I TRANSFERRED THE FILE TO ANOTHER FOLDER AND RENAMED IT DRAFT 3.
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Reply #1414. Jul 01 12, 9:29 AM
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Jazmee27
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DRAFT SIX
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He was only young, and it shame me to admit, most folk didn’t pay him no mind. Considdered him annoying, we did, although he were the quiet type. Never spoke unless addressed directly. Still, something about him disturbed us. Perhaps it was those eyes, wide and brown and searching, like they was boring through stuff.
At any rate, most folks just ignored him. Better things to do, we said. News stories to finish. Gadgets to fix. Messes to clean. Sewing to start. Projects needing finishing.
Everything changed the day we saw the kid’s picture plastered on every newspaper in town, and on some not our own. As images go, this one was sad. Scornful, too, or at least accusing, like if folks had done something we’d not be staring at this photo, feeling a sadness we could only in part explain.
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I COULDN'T CONTINUE, CALL THAT EXPERIMENTAL
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Reply #1415. Jul 01 12, 9:31 AM
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Jazmee27
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DRAFT SEVEN
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Few crimes are as heinous or as unforgiving as the taking of a life. Even more true if that life is young. They say demons roam our streets, and I believe it after seeing what happened to Sajivreya. Pity he had no one while alive.
He was just young, seven years at most. His parents’ deaths remain a mystery. He may have had a friend, I can’t be sure. Not that any of us want another’s pity once we’re gone, but I find that very sad.
It’s funny how things work sometimes. Used to be, the only ones who discussed Sajivreya were those who knew him, who attended the local school. I’ve been inside the building once or twice. One small roo, bare walls, no chairs or desks, no books, no board. Everything’s word of mouth here.
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Reply #1416. Jul 01 12, 9:32 AM
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Jazmee27
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======
The first time I set foot in that building, I’d been asked to give a presentation. The topic was the war against Mnoibrivahna’s indigenous people. There were random disturbing reports, nothing regular like there would be.
That whole speech, most of the kids just acted like I wasn’t there. Not Sajivreya. He listened attentively, his probing eyes on me the whole time, drinking in every word. It was disconcerting, the way he looked at me without blinking, hardly seeming to breathe. Almost like he knew something the rest of us didn’t.
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DISCONCERTING TO SAY THE LEAST
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Reply #1417. Jul 01 12, 9:34 AM
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Jazmee27
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DRAFT EIGHT
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The sun beat down on me, seeming hotter even than the day before. I ducked my head, trying vainly to escape the scorching and the singeing. I was all too aware that I had no clothes on, and that my hands were bound behind me to a metal pole. The pain was excruciating, and there was nothing I could do to escape it. Except, that is, to cease to live anymore. That, I was still unable to do. Giving up went against everything I believed in.
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Reply #1418. Jul 01 12, 9:36 AM
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Jazmee27
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OH, DRAFT 8 IS **THIS *ONE*
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I looked out my back window, bored out of my mind, and blinked in astonishment. For the space of a second, I was sure the human figure lying on the ground in back of my house was just a trick of the light. Nobody in their right mind would be out on a day like this!
I turned away to get my bearings, then peeked out the window again. Still there. I rushed outside, forgetting shoes in my exasperation, and swore vehemently as the ground burned my feet. Rather than return for my shoes, I approached the child, intending to give him or her a piece of my mind.
The shock I felt at seeing him tied to that metal contraption is something I’ve only ever felt once, and then it was when I was in the grip of a long-forgotten nightmare. The kid couldn’t have been older than seven years, with dark hair and eyes, I couldn’t quite tell the exact shade due to the sun’s reflection bouncing every which way. What I could tell was that someone had stripped him naked, and his flesh was red and blistered and peeling. He made no sound, though his eyes were puffy from crying and his shoulders still shook slightly. I wondered when he’d last had a drink of water. “Who did this to him,” I wondered, horrified.
I had by now forgotten my bare feet, so filled with horror was I at the scene I saw before me. After a second’s hesitation, I moved behind the boy, and untied the stiff cords fastened around his wrists. Only then did I notice his ankles had been similarly bound, and that the skin here was almost completely nonexistent. Barely restraining a shudder, I bent over my task, freeing him in what felt like hours but was most likely fifteen to thirty minutes. Acting instinctively, I then picked the boy up in my arms. He was no longer trembling, having thoroughly expended all energy, but lay limp and still. At first, I thought he was dead, but then I saw his chest move and I started running in the direction of the house.
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Reply #1419. Jul 01 12, 9:40 AM
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Jazmee27
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When I reached the door, Mother was waiting for us. She’d been watching from the window, she said, and had been about to call after me to come in and get my shoes when she’d seen the boy. “You did right, getting him in here before he gets worse.” Gently, she took his limp form from me and bade me go for the doctor. I opened my mouth to object, but she silenced me with that look of hers. “He’ll die without medical attention. We may not be able to pay for it, but if we don’t get him none he’s a goner for sure.” I nodded my head numbly, retrieved my shoes, and headed out.
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Reply #1420. Jul 01 12, 9:41 AM
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