Forget. Forget, Forget. I rub my temples violently, while spasmodically rocking back and forth on my heels. My eyes are scrunched shut, busy with trying to forget what happened. I don’t want to remember. Ever.
But the images keep flooding my mind.
Shouts. Their dull sound shakes my bed. I wake up.
Forget. Forget. Forget.
Soon, screams join the shouts like a terrible chorus. Together the sound winds into the Air and runs with the Wind. All of a sudden, I am frightened.
Forget. Forget. Forget.
The shouts get closer until they stop right outside my tent. My breathing shallows with fear, and I curl up into a ball.
Forget. Forget. Forget.
The entrance to my room is violently torn down, making me jump. The sound is an awful ripping noise that sends shivers up and down my spine. All of my instincts tell me to run, but I’m too scared. I feel frozen – like the way Mama was when she died.
Forget. Forget. Forget.
A callused hand wraps tightly around my thin arm, causing a cry of pain to escape past my lips. The man violently pulls me out of bed, and the rocks that litter the floor of my tent, mercilessly tear my feet apart.
Forget. Forget. Forget.
As I’m pulled into the heart of my camp, I pass bodies strewn across the Earth – limp – as if the life was sucked out of them. I want to scream, but my lungs don’t work. Instead I cry. I cry for the baby that I had helped deliver, but has now been trampled underfoot. I cry for the chief who took an axe to the head. I cry for the women who have been either taken advantage of or shot. I cry for the men who are now in shackles. I cry for the Sky who has to watch. I cry for myself. For a future that has been snatched from me. But, I do not cry for Mother.
Forget. Forget. Forget.
White. My captor is white. I am not.
Forget. Forget. Forget.
Sweat drips down my forehead, and my short frizzy hair puffs around my face. The shackles that are bound around my wrists, attach me to the men around me. When I try to struggle, the metal cuts deeper into my skin, and my blood runs red.
Forget. Forget. Forget.
The white men lead us far. Far enough that the man behind me collapses – and doesn’t get back up. Dead.
Forget. Forget. Forget.
I can feel bile creeping up my dry throat. My muscles convulse to throw up, but there is nothing in my stomach. Instead, I tread on and on with the constant weight of the dead man pulling me down like an anchor.
Forget. Forget. Forget.
I don’t understand the hatred that surrounds me during the march. The white men whip us. I want to scream, yell, and most of all fight, but I am weak. The only sound that comes from my tortured body is none at all.
Forget. Forget. Forget.
When we finally arrive at the edge of the Earth, some of the men are singled out. Once again the white men whip them until the men’s backs are bloodied and swollen. I want to look away, but one of the white men holds my head in place, and my eyes open.
“Remember this boy, next time you ever even think of running away.” The stench of his breath makes my eyes water, but I act unafraid. I have seen what these white pigs do to the weak.
Forget. Forget. Forget.
Mama used to tell me colorful tales of the place where the Earth gave way to the Sea. She had made it seem so beautiful and filled with power, that a great longing came alive in me. There was nothing more in the world that I wanted, than to see that place with my own eyes. I suppose that was her intention. Right now, the only thing I want, is to go back home.
Forget. Forget. Forget.
Animals. That’s what the men without color call my people. The thing is, I already know that. In my tribe, the first thing we learn, is that everything capable of feeling pain is an animal. I am not ashamed of our label, and as I look around, I see that none of my people are either. For the first time since my kidnapping, a tentative smile creeps across my face.
Forget. Forget. Forget.
We are arranged in a long winding line. An icy fist squeezes my heart when I see where it ends. A large wooden, misshapen house is afloat in the Sea. Boat, as the white men call it.
Forget. Forget. Forget.
I am roughly pushed and prodded into the Boat’s belly. Despite the amount of bodies packed against me, a tiny shaft of sunlight reaches down into my eyes, momentarily blinding me. I want so bad to reach for it, and escape in the Sun’s gentle hand, but a loud shudder rocks the Boat, and the light disappears.
Forget. Forget. Forget.
After a while, my judgement of time dissipates, and I am left with my tainted memories.
Forget. Forget. Forget.
Momma. I believed for so long that she loved me. I would seek her out in the middle of the night, just so I could be comforted by the sweet smell of African flowers. Their scent always seemed to cling to her.
Forget. Forget. Forget.
I push the memories out of my mind before they take ahold of me. In the darkness of the Boat, memories can be enticing – and dangerous. As eternity stretches on, I see fellow prisoners search for a daughter, wife, sister, aunt, and even Chief in the dark recesses of the Boat. They are eventually driven crazy – or spared from their misery.
Forget. Forget. Forget.
But there is no more to forget. My mind is drained of everything.  In the dark, suffocating darkness I roll over onto my bony back, and look up at the wooden panels above me. Instead of fighting the overwhelming warmth that seeps through me, I welcome it. Anything is better than this man-made Boat that stinks of fluids that should stay in the body. As I feel myself slipping from reality, I can’t help but wonder if my body will be recovered from this Boat. Will I be pathetically alone? Or will I be surrounded by my brothers – the only girl?