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Description
My mother’s soft hands shook me out of deep sleep. The sky was dark still; it was as if I had just returned home and lay in bed awaiting sleep. My head was heavy as I sat up and stumbled out of my warm bed, the cold of the early morning air sapping my body of all comfort. I could already feel the aches over my body beginning to throb.
In a half asleep state, I followed my family out of our home and down the road. The frozen mud crackled under my feet and squished through my toes, making my sore legs sting with numbness.
I caught a glimpse of the sun pouring over the horizon before feeling the hot, wet air of the factory building wash over my face, and I stepped inside, shoving the door closed behind me. My family dispersed to their station, and I set to work myself.
The warmth was a relief at first. It melted the stiffening cold from my bones, but at the same time it began to make my head throb right between my eyes.
After hours of crawling on the floor and tying tiny threads together, my already raw fingers began to bleed and sting. The scabs on my knees from kneeling for so long were beginning to scrape off again. I could feel dirt grinding into the wounds. My back and chest felt as if bricks had been dropped on my torso. My arms began to shake with the effort of holding them up.
With every breath I took, the wet heat stung my throat. I had to blink hard to stay focused. The rhythmic banging of the looms, barely tolerable heat and the ban on speaking weighed on me. I felt the need to scream, stretch, and breathe fresh cool air.
I scampered out of the factory, needing to relieve myself. My stomach growled with hunger, but I ignored it. I gulped down the fresh air like a camel drinks after a long trek in the desert. I stared longingly at the river, sparkling in the sun before hearing my boss’ sharp voice ordering me back inside. I clenched my jaw and stomped back, knowing I would be stuck there until nightfall, and every day, all day into the foreseeable future.

Description
My mother’s soft hands shook me out of deep sleep. The sky was dark still; it was as if I had just returned home and lay in bed awaiting sleep. My head was heavy as I sat up and stumbled out of my warm bed, the cold of the early morning air sapping my body of all comfort. I could already feel the aches over my body beginning to throb.
In a half asleep state, I followed my family out of our home and down the road. The frozen mud crackled under my feet and squished through my toes, making my sore legs sting with numbness.
I caught a glimpse of the sun pouring over the horizon before feeling the hot, wet air of the factory building wash over my face, and I stepped inside, shoving the door closed behind me. My family dispersed to their station, and I set to work myself.
The warmth was a relief at first. It melted the stiffening cold from my bones, but at the same time it began to make my head throb right between my eyes.
After hours of crawling on the floor and tying tiny threads together, my already raw fingers began to bleed and sting. The scabs on my knees from kneeling for so long were beginning to scrape off again. I could feel dirt grinding into the wounds. My back and chest felt as if bricks had been dropped on my torso. My arms began to shake with the effort of holding them up.
With every breath I took, the wet heat stung my throat. I had to blink hard to stay focused. The rhythmic banging of the looms, barely tolerable heat and the ban on speaking weighed on me. I felt the need to scream, stretch, and breathe fresh cool air.
I scampered out of the factory, needing to relieve myself. My stomach growled with hunger, but I ignored it. I gulped down the fresh air like a camel drinks after a long trek in the desert. I stared longingly at the river, sparkling in the sun before hearing my boss’ sharp voice ordering me back inside. I clenched my jaw and stomped back, knowing I would be stuck there until nightfall, and every day, all day into the foreseeable future.