The Cleaning

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As soon as I walked in, I couldn't stop myself from gagging.  The air was so steamy, I almost suffocated. When I got over the shock, I noticed hundreds of curtains in squares, baths, I thought.  At least they give us privacy.  

I was lead to one of the curtains in the front row that was not concealing what was inside.  It showed an elegant water-filed bathtub, steam came off the water that filled it.  I could smell perfumes mixing with the overpowering steam.  A bathrobe was hanging over a chair by the side.  As I walked in, I noticed rose petals in the water.  They closed the certain and stripped my clothes.  I lowered my naked body into the soothing water.  The women who were undoubtedly slaves.  They did their best to hide their winces as they stooped down to grab the shampoos.  One of them was missing a hand and another was crippled and leaning on a flimsy branch that looked like it might break any moment.  Two of them, that only had scarred hands, held out about a dozen different shampoos.  

"I DON'T CARE THAT WE CAN'T WASTE THEM, I WANT THEM ALL!" screamed a voice from across the small hallway.  I heard faint whispering, apparently her slave was pleading with the girl that had spoken.

"I-DON'T-CARE, CAN YOU NOT HEAR ME!  JUST GIVE ME THE PERFUME!"  The same girl hollered.  The entire room was silent now, listening intently.

"IF I AM GOING TO BE QUEEN, I HALF TO LOOK BEAUTIFUL!" she said, still yelling, yet talking as if to a child.  I blinked and noticed the slave girls still holing out the shampoos, their hands shook, probably wondering what I was going to say.  I glanced at the bottles. there were weird shapes going across it, and remembered that I couldn't read.

"I don't care," I said as sweetly as I could, " you pick." She seemed awestruck at my words.  Not knowing what to say, she slowly picked out a bottle that had the most beautiful flower I had ever seen, and held it out reluctantly.

"It's perfect, thank you." I said in the same sweet tone, and added a smile to it.  She nodded and started taking off the lid.

"Why aren't you talking?" I asked in the kindest voice I could use.  She just shook her head and pointed to her mouth.  

"Y-you can't ... talk?" I asked thinking.  she nodded.  "But ... can none of you talk?" They shook their heads sadly.  

"T-that's terrible! Did-" I changed to a whisper. "Did your masters cut your tongues off?" I asked, trying not to sound rude.  They shook their heads again.  I gasped,

"How could they do that to you! That- That's terrible!" It was my turn to be awestruck.  But they just ignored me and started to rub lotions into my skin.  They poured oils and perfumes on my head.  They massaged shampoos and conditioners into my raven hair.  But all I could think about was the way these slaves were treated.  Mordecai and me were never able to afford any kind of servant, so I had no idea what people did to them.  Now I knew, and I couldn't believe my friends (that owned slaves)  Did they do that to them too?  Were they worse?  Were they better?  Questions like these, and about a million other were swimming in my head, then all of a sudden, I found myself being rapped in a robe and a booming voice bring my to the present,

"ALRIGHT, GIT OUTTA THERE, TIME FOR INSPECTION!"   

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