Slave Boy's 2015

I was a sensitive child. Sensitive means soft in the slave quarters. My sister would punch me in the arm as lightly as she could to still make an effect. I was frail because food was scarce in the slave quarters for some of us. My sister loved me and did not want me to be destroyed by other boys in the slave quarters. She did not want for me to be feminine because I lived with all females. I learned how to fight and survive like all of the other boys in the slave quarters. My sister was always trying to correct my mother's mistakes. My mother committed one of the worse sins of the modern slave. She moved us to the low end of the slave quarters without preparation. Once we moved to the low end of the slave quarters the boys ganged up on me every chance they got to beat on me until they found other boys to beat down. I fought, but I never became as violent as the other boys. I knew that the violence was a state of our conditions and not who we were.