Day of the lottery

I woke up this morning feeling a sense of unease that I couldn't shake off. It was my last day with my family before the lottery process began. My parents had always been against slavery, but they knew it was their duty to participate in the system and try to make the best of it for me.

I spent most of the morning trying to distract myself from the looming possibility that I could be taken away from them forever. We went on a walk around the neighborhood, trying to enjoy each other's company as much as we could before my fate was decided.

As the day wore on, I couldn't help but think about who I would want to be paired with if I were selected as a ****. My parents had always taught me that love and respect should guide all of our actions, even in difficult situations. But what if I was paired with someone who didn't share those values? What if they saw me only as an object to be used for their pleasure or worked me to the bone? Would I be kept as a pet, or worst as a toy or furniture?

I tried not to let these thoughts consume me, but it was hard not to feel a sense of dread creeping up on me. As the sun began to reach high noon, I knew that my time with my family was coming to an end. We sat down together for lunch, trying to make the most of potentially our last meal together as a family.

As we ate, I couldn't help but feel like something was missing. Like there was a piece of me that wasn't fully present in this moment. It was then that my parents revealed their plan - they had put both of our names down for the lottery process, hoping that if one of us were selected as a ****, we could at least be paired together.

I felt a surge of conflicting emotions wash over me. On one hand, I wanted to be with my family no matter what happened, and gaining a servant was enticing. But on the other hand, I couldn't shake off the feeling that being a **** would mean losing everything I had ever known and loved. I hugged my parents and left for the lotto.

The lottery was held in a large auditorium filled with people from all walks of life. There were masters and servants, free people and those who had already been paired together. As I stood there, my heart pounding in my chest, I couldn't help but feel like this was the moment that would determine the rest of my life.

The lottery process began with a master standing on stage, holding a large urn filled with small pieces of paper. He started by calling out the names of those who had entered the lottery and were now waiting to find out their fate. Each person had varying reactions - some cheered and clapped, while others looked on in fear and desperation.

As the master continued to call out names, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. I didn't want to think about what might happen if my name was called next. I just wanted to be with my family, no matter what.

But as the master continued to call out names, I couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong. It felt like he was taking forever to get through all of the names, and each passing moment made me more anxious and nervous.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the master called my name. I opened my eyes and looked up at him, my heart racing in my chest. As he handed me a small piece of paper, I closed my eyes again, trying to block out the fear and uncertainty that was consuming me.