Day #1 as a West African Slave

It is in 1700's, I am walking in this grassy field. My feet are killing me. I am chained to this person who had died early this morning. This I find particularly gross. My head is itching with lice. I hate having to walk miles for nothing, but work and pain. The grass has blackberry thorns all through out the field. All I can smell is the stench of death. Most of us have tried to escape, but what is the point we are all chained together. Any of us who have tried have been whipped. The sound of people being whipped. It is horrifying! If it weren't for those Europeans trading guns to our enemy, I would not be here! I fell anger, sadness, curiosity, and frightened. I just want to go back to my tribe.