The underbelly of the slave ship was dark and foul. The hushed silence was broken only by the clanking of chains as someone shifted uncomfortably.
“We’ll die here,” I sobbed.
My father wagged a bony finger. “Nah,” he murmured. “This ain’t the end of the road. Just a ticket to the New World.”
“Sickness will get us…”
“Nah…we’re tougher than you think.”
“But we’re nothing but slaves here!” I spat. “That will never change.”
His eyes grew misty. “One day things will have to change. They always do.”
“We’ll be dead and gone by then.”
He nodded. “Still worth it.”
This week’s challenge: 100 words. The classic photo prompt above. One shattering piece of historical fiction.