There sat kings and queens, chattering off about which miserable slave they would pick. The ongoing conversations echoed as slaves in cages or chains walked onto the stage for people to bid.

Your parents sat in front, yelling the highest numbers they could think of for some sad little human. I mean, one caught your eye. It seemed the same for the slave in the cage, since she kept staring at you as she rested her hands gripped on the handle bars.

She stayed silent, looking at you for help.