"Pain and suffering are the soil of strength and courage."

Chapter 2
River's POV

I pranced through the marketplace with a jump to my step. I breathed in the cool, crisp air. The smells of spices and fresh vegetables wafted past my nose like a swirling sea of pleasantry. My senses twirled, engulfing in the sound of the chitter-chattering of both sellers and buyers alike. Passer-byres pushed past me at a hasty pace, almost knocking me to the ground as I quickly steadied myself.

Don't get upset, don't get upset.

I took a deep breath, ignoring the rude beings as I continued on to the fruit stands.

The smell of fresh apples and pears whisked past my sensitive nose as I stopped in place, eyes shuttering closed as I smiled briefly to myself.

Aah, how I wished I could live in the market. To awake every morning to the smell of fresh fruit and foreign teas. To gain the freedom and sense of adventure that came with the vivid atmosphere of the brightly-colored marketplace.

Sounds of giggling and slight movement pulled me from my thought as I peered down. Two young children squicked, laughing playfully as they ran around my legs, chasing one another. I giggled as they smiled up at me with toothy grins before racing past me and around the legs of others, who seemed less than pleased as they grumbled and swatted at them. They remained uncaring, however, as they giggled lightly with one another, taking advantage of the swatting hands of foreigners and sellers by creating obstacles of them, dodging and jumping like two excited puppies as they continued on to the market square.

"Tom! Sarah!" A woman screamed, standing behind a stand of pears, waving a stained handkerchief in the direction of the small children before dropping it and mumbling aggravatingly beneath her breath and turning back to her customer, hands moving in all directions as she spoke in a foreign tongue.

The man dressed in a sparkling attire, unlike the normal dress in the village. We were a modest bunch, usually dressing in browns and grays. However, he dressed in a robe-like attire, appearing almost the same color as the red apples in the stand before him. But none turned their heads in his direction nor paid him any mind as he spoke in an unknown language. After all, this was a port. People from nations far and wide arrived here at all times as stop-offs to their destination. He was not the first to come in such a flamboyant attire and he was definitely not to be the last.

As he spoke I drowned out those around me and focused. I could pick up similar vowels and sounds, understanding to a degree what he was saying, yet not completely. After years of visiting the marketplace and listening in on the chitter-chatter amongst foreigners, I had begun to develop an ear for a couple languages, a strange familiarity for sounds and vowels that I could recognize yet put no name to. I wished I could know more, to learn all kinds of languages and aspects of knowledge, to be able to pick up any book and absorb anything and everything on the page. Though I couldn't. Because of my father, I had been pulled out of school earlier than I had wished, causing my education to be cut short. I wished I could have stayed longer, to have learned more. But that would only be in a perfect world; a world in which I could control my own future, my own present.

I continued walking toward the rows of fruit, settling on a small, apple stand.

"Good morning, River." Mrs. Havings smiled at me. I blushed and looked down.

After my repeated visits to the marketplace, it came as no surprise to slowly become familiar with those who manned the stands. Though, that didn't make it any less embarrassing when spoken to. I may have found enjoyment in watching others, but I most certainly did not want the act to be reversed. I knew how others viewed me, that no matter what sugar-coated words they'd manage to speak, they didn't like what they saw. No being in the right mind wanted to be reminded of their own vile appearance.

"Good morning," I whispered looking at the colorful apples in front of me instead of her face.

"Shy as ever, huh, sweetie?" She giggled. I blushed.

No need to remind me.

I pretended to be highly focused on the red apples in front of me.

"Do you have anyone special yet?"

I nearly choked on the air in front of me as I looked up at her with widened eyes.

"Don't look at me like that, sweetie. You've reached that age already haven't you? The girls must be flocking to you!" She laughed in utmost humor as she rose her arms in great dramatics.

What is she talking about? Why would anyone 'flock' to me?

If anything they'd be running from me.

"It's always the gorgeous ones that are completely oblivious..." she muttered under her breath as she picked up a green apple with a yellow rim and shoved it in front of me.

"Try this one, you'll love it I promise." She grinned.

"Umm, I appreciate it Mrs. Havings, but I don't have enough money-"

"Nonsense sweetie, take it as a birthday present." She smiled brightly.

"How did you know it's-"

"Enough questions, a simple 'thank you' would suffice." She crossed her arms in mock annoyance.

My mouth fell so low that I began to think it may hit the ground.

I've never gotten a birthday present before.

"T-thank you so m-much, M-Mrs. Havings." I stammered.

"You're welcome, sweetie." She grinned widely.

As thanks, I bought three of her cheaper apples before smiling and continuing on my way to the other stands of food. I went from stand to stand, checking off my mental list of food before the most amazing smell pulled me from my task.

To my right stood the exotic fruit section. I knew I could never even dream of trying one, but just being able to see them and smell them was enough for me. So with a bright smile plastered on my face, I hurried towards the lavish section.

I pushed through silk and beads before entering the bright room. Couches of fine velvet and beaded jewelry sat in every corner. The sounds of chatter and gasps filled the room as foreigners and villagers alike took in the beautiful displays. Exotic fruit of all colors and shapes laid on silken cushions beneath glass barriers as people of all cultures stood around, eyeing the expensive fruit.

A fruit caught my attention as I peered down through the glass at the strange form. It looked almost like a porcupine with its pointed spikes of purple and red. I bent down to read the label as a loud laugh ensued, causing me turn my head in curiosity.

"Hey Izzy, watch this." A dark brunette man laughed as he placed a thorn-like fruit on the top of his head, "I am the master of the tribe of thorns! Bow to me, oh-inferior-being!"

The lighter-haired of the two grinned at the other mischievously, "Oh, yes, Oh-great-one!" He yelled dramatically as he dropped on one knee. Only to swipe at the other guy's legs, once down, causing him to lose balance and land ungracefully on his side, spread out like a floor mat.

"Damn you!" the dark brunette yelled dramatically and made a show of choking and dying though he didn't seem to be choking on anything at all.

A man with a dark goatee stood by the stand, arms crossed, a vein ticking obviously against his neck as he watched them touch his fruit with no care. But for some reason he appeared to do nothing of it, just watching with gritted teeth and white-knuckled hands.

I felt a giggle escape my mouth but I covered it quickly as not to be heard, but my reaction was too late and the two men were already looking at me with wide eyes.

Oh no.

"Hey, Izzy are you seeing what I'm seeing?" the 'dead' guy asked hitting Izzy on the side without breaking eye contact with me.

"Well, seeing as you just fell and probably hit your head. I'm not sure...but I'm seeing a gorgeous guy, you?" He asked, also not bothering to look away from me.

I felt my face heat up as they both continued to stare at me.

Oh God, were they still doing their play-thing where they were now looking at some gorgeous person because I really don't want any attention directed at me right now.

They both got up and started walking towards me.

Oh God, what if instead, they're mad at me for laughing at their performance. Are they going to beat me up?

My body froze over as I broke out into a cold sweat. I swallowed and backed up slowly, but they kept moving towards me, closer and closer.

Oh God, oh God, I have to run. I have to get out of here.

I pivoted on my heels and dashed out of the curtained stand, rushing in the direction of my  house.

"Wait!" I heard them yell behind me.

But I didn't bother turning around nor answering as I ran as fast as my short legs could take me. Once a few blocks down, I turned my head to make sure they didn't chase after me. Thankfully, they hadn't. I kept walking at a normal pace, catching my breath as I went, but still occasionally looked back to make sure I had truly lost them. When finally reaching the cobblestone path up to my house, I opened the door, and walked straight into something hard. I peered up, hand cupping my nose into the narrowed eyes of my father.

"F-father, w-what are you d-doing home s-so early?" I stammered, catching myself before falling backward.

"Took you long enough. Come, we're going." He said, walking past me and out the door.

"G-going w-where?"

"To a friend."

"W-what friend?"

"Enough questions!" He barked, the crazed look in his eyes causing me to shut up.

I felt the cold chill from earlier return, except this time more profound. I considered running to my room and locking it, but the look in his eyes told me that if I did, I would regret it.

I swallowed a lump in my throat and followed after him, placing the bags of food in front of the door to put away when we get back.

We can't be gone for too long, right?

I looked down at my feet as I walked behind him, not paying much attention to where we were going or how long we were walking for until we had reached a large, black tent.

It felt as if every part of my body was screaming at me to run. But I denied it.

I can't, father will surely kill me!

I followed my father as he walked into the tent. I felt a strange sense of doom wash over me, almost as if I were a sheep walking into a lion's den.

A tremor ran down my spine and my body began to shake. It felt as if all eyes were on me, watching my every step as I scurried behind my father. It was both daunting and frightening.

The dimmed setting of the room seemed to give off an air of mystic, danger. Men stood at every corner dressed in darkened shades, almost as if trying to blend within the black glaze surrounding them. I shivered under the scrutinizing gazes of the dark-robed men. They seemed to observe me as one would their prey. Calculatingly.

I wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. To get away from the malicious-looking men around me.

What could my father want to come to such a horrid place?

"Is this him?" A man asked, approaching my father. I hunched behind my father, shrinking as my fingers shook against my sides.

He had the build of a bull and eyes that seemed to reflect one as well. Nothing seemed to be present in his dark, glassy eyes but hate and emptiness. His head was hairless and seemed to almost glow beneath the candle light. Tattoos ran down his arms like painted sleeves, encasing pounds of intimidating muscle.

He could probably kill me just by flicking a finger in my direction.

"Yes, this is him." They both looked down at me silently as I began to fidget in place.

I felt the same painful stabbing in the pit of my stomach, warning me of immediate danger.

"Hmm," He used his thick, dirty fingers to lift my chin toward him and turned my head from side to side, "he's quite a looker. I'll get quite a sum for him." he smirked devilishly at me.

Goddess, my father...he wouldn't.

My eyes widened in fear as the pieces slowly started to come together.

"I'll give you 100 pounds." The bald man said, dropping my face from his harsh grasp and turning towards my father.

"Double that and you've got yourself a deal." My father crossed his arms, a smirk slowly beginning to rise to his face.

I felt sick to the stomach.

My father, my own flesh and blood, was selling me.

The bald man rubbed his chin thoughtfully before sighing, "fine, but only because I owe you, John."

Owe you? Was my father friends with this man? Was he really going to sell me?

"Father-!"

"Deal."

My heart dropped in my chest, my face draining of color. My breath grew ragged as I shook in place.

The bald man called over his shoulder, "Greg, Jed, take him."

My eyes widened in fear.

No, no, no, no.

My heart speed up along with my ragged breathing. I turned to run, but before I could, two large, muscular men came up from behind me and thrust me to the ground. I grunted as I hit the dirt-covered flooring with a loud thump. Dirt and blood filled my mouth as they roughly tied my arms behind me, causing a small whimper to escape my mouth from the sheer force.

The bald man took a large, satin bag handed from behind him and handed it to my father. My father took it with a large grin plastered across his face, his eyes twinkling as they came in contact with the golden coins within.

How could he look so happy while selling his own son? I can't believe I ever cared about him!

I felt a wave of anger hit me so hard I would have fallen if not for already being on the floor.

"You monster, how dare you sell your own son!" I shrieked.

How could he?! After all, I did for him! I cooked and cleaned for him daily and even had to drop out of school because of him and this is how he repays me?!

"Son?!" He laughed, "I never viewed you as such. You were nothing but a slave, the irony is now you actually are." He laughed again.

My vision turned red as my body clenched in anger.

I had never been so enraged in my entire life. All the name calling and beatings, I lived through them all and never said a word, but this.

This.

"You monster," I spat, "you're disgusting. All this time you told me I was a murderer, that I killed my own mother but the truth is you killed her didn't you?" I mocked, "She saw the monster hidden inside you and was so disgusted that she killed herself just to get away from you!" I hissed.

His face turned red as his fists clenched at his side, "You mongrel," he hissed, "she didn't kill herself. She loved me. She died because of you! You killed her when you ripped your disgusting self into the world earlier than your date! She was so young, she couldn't take the strain on her body...she lost so much blood..." he looked at me with nothing but utter hatred, "You are the true monster!" He spat before turning and walking out of the tent, leaving me alone, throwing me to the wolves.

So many emotions were coursing through me that I felt almost faint.

Anger, hatred, betrayal, and complete and utter grief.

Darkness engulfed my vision as a haze of nausea swept up my throat and swam through my eyes, eating away at my eyesight as it did my sanity, but before it could completely consume me, one single thought pulsed through the very core of my mind.

Why can't I be loved?