She walked in chains. She cried in sorrow. She waited in anguish never knowing if she was going to live or die. The journey from Africa to the Americas was long and dangerous. Many died and no one knew. Many cried out in pain and no one cared.

Samanya lived up to her name with it meaning, "the unknown one". She was born with no father and her mother died in childbirth. She was raised in an old, rundown orphanage and at the age of 11 she ran away and was captured by the American slave traders.

Samanya poked her best friend, Natalia. She was growing quite sick, with cold weather coming in a few months. looked at Samanya weakly, trudging along.

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They had walked for miles in the cold. The sunless sky frowned on them. Natalia was weak with the common sickness passing like a plague throughout the slaves. In spite of the cold, Samanya's ebony skin glistened with the sweat of hard labor.

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"Where are we going?" Samanya tried to ask, but the leader's whip lashed across her back and she fell silent.

Natalia whimpered, "When will this ever end," and Samanya could honestly say that she did not know.

They arrived at the boat a week later and were loaded into tiny crates one beside the other. Samanya was so close to the man next to her, she could feel the heat emanating from his body.
Days later, the man turned to her and asked, "What is your name, young one?"
Samanya was glad to have someone to talk to, "I am Samanya of the Bantu people. As we were searching the desert for food, we stumbled into the slave traders. I am an orphan, so i had no one to protect me. What is your name?"
"Faraj," the man replied.

(( i wonder y no one else is writing in this. /:))

(( yeah.. i noticed that.. it's a good story. we could do a lot with it, but no one else is writing it.. ))

((I'm not quite sure what to write......... It sorta seems like a one-person thing, like you've already worked out the plot.))

Samanya wondered why Faraj was being so cold, wasn't he the 1 who asked her name?

(( nah.. join in!! ok.. pretty much it's based in the late 1700s early 1800s when slavery was big.. the chick samanya is being taken to the americas with her friend who is really sick.. Faraj is the man next to her.. they become friends.. ))

From what Samanya could see through the planks of wood between them, Faraj was a broad-shouldered, Arabic man in his early 30s. He was tall and very dark.
Samanya muttered, "What is your story, Faraj?"
"I was a prince. My tribe is also a nomadic group, we were getting ready to camp when slave traders began to round up my people. I told them to leave the people and take me, a prince, instead," Faraj sighed. His face was tear-streaked and sad. His eyes were red and puffy. He looked very downcast.

he was being noble, Samanya thought. I wonder if the slave takers really did let the rest of his tribe go. they were not the kind of people to do that.

Natalia coughed beside her, a wet, painful sounding cough, from in her chest. Samania winced at the noise. She could hardly breathe in the stink of this little compartment. it was so full of unwashed bodies who hadn't had a moment of privacy - not even to relieve themselves - for what she thought must have been 3 days. She couldn't even imagine how Natalia could get enough air in her lungs to cough like that.

((Hi anyone around still?...yoohoo))

((Just waiting forsomeone else besideds me to post))

((cool do I count? lol))

((ok here goes...))

Samania just felt like she had to get out of this stinking pot right now...she wasn't sure how long she could put up with the odour anymore. It was just everywhere, it seemed to have gone right to her nerve cells, somehow clinging to every fibre of her being. She had never known humans could smell that bad. It was just awful!

She looked at Faraj, he was in his usual corner, somehow seemed to be unaffected by it all. And he still didn't want to talk as if he had forgotten she even existed in the same room.

But hadn;t she done he same thing? wasn't she crammed into this room with what must have been 50 or more people? She was ignoring them just like he was ignoring her. Natalia coughed again and Samanja saw streaks from tears on her rapidly thinning face shining in the dim light.

She didn't know how to comfort Natalia, she just felt like she had to get out soon or she would go stark raving mad just like the oldest living woman in her village.

It seemed so long ago that she had run free and wild with all the children from her village, throwing stones at elephants from far as they drank from the small lake near the village.

Natalia coughed again, a rasping cough that grated on Samania's nerves. When Samanja saw the teary face next to her in the dim light, she felt a sudden surge of compassion for her companion. Holding Natalia's sobbing form close to her, she wished the ugly man would get their dinner soon.