סיפור באנגלית

My name is Ilia Truman and I love to draw. Once I even won in a drawing competition in my city. Those days seems to me so far away now.
I live in "U.N.S.A" united national states of America. This country called in the past, United States of America, until dictatorship take control on her.
I'm in jail, almost two years. I got five years in prison, because I expressed opinion against the government.
I work in the fields; from there we sell the produce around the country. I hate to work there, I hate this place.
By the way, I'm seventeen years old. I draw on any piece of paper that I find. I mostly draw a landscape, people and sometimes myself. I don't want to sound dramatic, but I fell that I'm going to die. I feel so week and ill, I'm barely eating. Every day, the responsible for order are beating ma so hard that I'm barely stand on my feet.
"Who drew this?" the guard interrupted my thoughts. I'm scared.
Now I exactly eat with another people from my hut-and horrible one. We eat in the dining room if it possible to call him likes this. We don't get a lot of food. Around us have wooden tables and we are seating on them.
My friends, Aliena and Grace sitting next to me. They both blondes with blue eyes; they look like twines, although between them there is no family connection. I'm always laughed at them because of this.
"I'm asked a simple question, who drew this?" the guard scream out loud and I cover my ears. He waves in the drawing in front of us and I shuddered with horror.it is my drawing, sketch. I feel horror and fear in my heart. I don't want to be punished.
I think that I'm lost a large part of my personality; I'm not the same girl that I was before the arrest. The days before looks to me so distant and fading, like I'm not really expressed them. The guard is shaking the table; I don't want that everyone will suffer because of me, it's better to admit, or not?
"I drew it." I'm said and cover my mouse when I understand what I say. Everyone look at me in horror. Fear, they don't want to know what will happened.
"You?!" he asked, shocked and then continue, "very well." I heard him mumbling.
"Come with me to the manger office, please." He said with severe undertone and I hurry to the exit.my two friends looking at me encouragingly that make me feel a little bit better.at least they don't looking at me like someone that going to die, as many of
the people who sitting at the table. Some of them bow their heads as a sign to farewell and sorrow.
It's just annoys me even more, but I keep going. I am going out to the frozen air. In fact, the area that jail located isn't so cold, what of course good. But, were cases that snowing.
In the summer, the most horrible time in the year. So stuffy and hot inside the hut. In this time I feeling that I couldn't hold on even one more day.
After walk that takes fifteen minutes we reach to the manger office. I was there only once, when I came here. In his office, he explained us what are the rules and regulations in this place.
I heard things about what is going on there and I feel that my skin is shudder. I hope that my punishment will be quick, even hurt, but pass quickly. I feel in my heart that they going to punish me.
We are entering through the Door and turn right and left in the corridors. Finally, we reach to his office. The door are closed and I guess that the manger in a meeting.
"Wait her!" the guard said in a threatening voice and entered into the manger office. I wait a little bit, dispels stress by biting my nail, a bad habit that I can't get over it.
The door opened suddenly and the guard going out, his gaze grim as usual, "you can come in. "
I get up from the chair and I entered into the manger office. It full of files and binders, I guess that have their many details about us, where are we born, what crimes we are performed and those stuff. There is also a computer in the room; I don't think is very advanced.
Behind the table and sipping his coffee. The manger sits
from the moment that he sees me; he puts his coffee cup on the huge table and smiling at me, I can't understand if it just smiles or ominous one.
Anyway, it makes me get stressed even more.
"So, you are this that made the painting, aren't you?" the manger stating a fact.
I nod and say yes.
"You're name?" he asked.
"Ilia Truman." I answer, my eyes lowered and I staring at the floor.
"Ilia Truman," he repeat on my words, "the name sound to me familiar from somewhere. Do you take part in drawing competition?"
"Yes, but this was a long time ago." I'm answering him.
"Such a waste." I heard him mumbling.
I decided to take control before he shoots me or something like this, "sir, I didn't mean to. I didn't know that prohibited drawing. Please, forgive me."
He looks at me and chuckles, "no, no, this is actually lovely painting. I can see that you have talent."
I hope that it isn't a trick before something much worse, and not responding.
"Probably you hear about people that working in the city. aren't you?" he asked me. And how could I not to hear. In the jail, was a working unit of people that works in city, in all kind of stuff. It was a very desire job and everyone wanted to accept to her. Few selected. Many hate anyone who works there, I guess from disappointed and jealousy. In fact, there is a lot reasons to jealous, they get more food from us and their work easier. They even sleep with less density than the huts. Many call them pigs or sycophant.
I wonder what he wants to reaches with this questions, "of course that I heard, sir." I'm answering to him.
"Good," he said and continues, "anyway, we need right now, people who drawing beautiful, for walls painting on cultural intuition. And because you know how to draw, I guess that you won't objection if from tomorrow you start to work there."
"What about the fields?" I'm asking him anxiously.
"Forget about the fields, you're done there." He answering and smiling.
I'm happy, of course, but I don't want to live my friends and I know what it mean if I move. Maybe they won't think that I'm toady and understand that I haven't another choice. I just feel ripped to an half.
"So, what are you saying?" he asked, "I'm sure that you want to move. It's essential to your and ours interested. You won't look like skeleton," and when he says that I'm blush from embarrassment, but yes, I'm really unnaturally thin, "and we will profit from yours painting."
"I don't know." I'm mumbling to myself, I guess that he heard me.
"I hope that you made the right choice," he said me. It's just seems to me or I recognize a latent threat in his words, "you're really want to continue work in the fields?"
No, I don't want to continue to working there. I hate everything in the fields, the fact that we are working from eight in the morning until six or seven in the evening, depend in the season.
I hate that we can't go to the toilet. That there is only one break for fifteen minutes all day long, that we don't get anything for the moil that we are doing every day. But, I think that I get used to it, I work there in the last two years. I can't leave my friends, the things that familiar to me.
"I…I…" I'm said, but can't finish the sentence.
"Yes?" he ask me, listen, "we will understand if you choose don't work in the city," from his tone I understand the opposite, "I offer you to think well about this. You don't that I will transfer your friends to worse place by mistake, aren't you?"
this time I haven't any doubt, he is threating on me. I decently can't understand this. Even if I won't choose to move I sure that he will find another talent people who would happy to draw for him, isn't that?
But, actually, probably, he was really desperate, if he used sketch to find someone who will agreed to draw for him. Maybe he understands that I haven't really another choice.
"This is a threat?" I'm asking with courage. He slaps me hard, that for a moment I can't see the room clearly.
"I'm sorry that I had to use such a wherewithal, Ilia. Unlike you thinking I don't love to use violence," he said, "Sometimes, I don't have choice."
Yeah, sure, I want to answer him, but I don't dare. It's hurt me, not so much, but the pain appears and bothers me. I hope that he will pass.
"Oaky," I say finally, "I'll join."
"Excellent," he said to me, "I knew that you agreed."
I'm try to smile, but I can't.
"You're things will delivered tonight to your new sleeping place," yeah, like I have any objects, I think to myself, "you will start to work from tomorrow. I guess that you want to say goodbye your friends, you have a few hours."
I nod, happy that it over. But, the sadness and fear became larger and larger inside my body. What I will say to my friends, are they going to mad on me, won't speak with me?
I was witness to situation that people stopped talking with someone that transfers to the work unit in the city.
"Well," he says, "goodbye, good luck in your work tomorrow."
"Thank you." I'm say.
"Don't worry," he says, I'm sure that everyone will understand. You did the right choice."
Because you threatened on me, but I'm don't say anything. Instead I get up from the chair and leave the room. The guard that accompanied me in this morning waiting for me in the entrance, he is nodding toward me.
I'm going after him and trying not to cry.