Encouraging links between students and school staff around the globe
I am thirsty. My throat is so dry it grates like sandpaper when I swallow. I’d kill for a mouthful of water but my captors have control of the flasks and I think they’ve forgotten I’m still alive. I watch them glug greedily, splashing precious drops into the burning sand without a thought and I close my eyes with longing. One mouthful, that’s all I ask.
Fingers dig into my hair, jerking my head back. Something hard rams against my chin and I open my eyes to see one of the men standing in front of me. He grunts and tips the flask until a dribble of lukewarm liquid hits my lips. It tastes stale, with a sour tang of metal, but I still lick at the rim like it’s nectar from the gods. When the flask is yanked away, I let out a croak of protest. “More…please…”
Add a Comment