Ben

Ben's Monolouge: This is my Monolouge about me, an 11 year old boy who's working in Chrales Winchester rock crushing Facility. It is described heavily that it is similar to Hell in many ways. I tried to imagine what it would be like for one of these child labourers and turned it into me working in a factory. I hope you like it:

Ben’s Monologue Charles Winchester rock Quarry, 1825   Dear Diary, I have to right this now, because it’s the only time I would be able to. And if I stayed long, and was seen, I would be bashed beyond recognition by the overseers. But I have to Get this out....    .. .   I never knew Hell was only a few streets away. Pure Hell. Every day, every Hour, every minute. Definitely. Well, at least it was for me...   My Name is Ben Head, and I was sold for a pound by my parents to Charles Winchester Rock Quarry. All I thought it was was a plane old factory down the road. Until that frightful day came...     .. .   I woke up, cold, and unaware of what was about to happen. I was tore from my Bed by gloved hands, and I was dragged out the door. My mother was waving, looking hopeful, but with a hint of sadness as I was dragged out the door. “Mum, What’s Happening? MUM!” That’s when it all started. I had landed in Hell. . . .   The excruciating pain of hardened leather on my thin back tore me from my sleep, the crack of the whip still ringing in my ears. On with my cold shirt, on with my frayed cap, this is how it was, every day. Crack! Crack! Crack! Every Morning, every Hour, every minute. “Get up you lazy sacks of Lard. Ya Want breakfast? Now get up you slugs!” Enforcer Hienrich snarled. This is what they said to us. Every Day, every Hour, every Minute. The eating room was a horrid place, it was a cold, Wet Chamber and the walls were splashed with gruel and porridge and it stunk the whole room out. Even the blood from the victims was splashed everywhere. We lined up in a long line to be served. The senior factory staff stood at the front, serving out half a ladle full of Cold, Sticky Gruel. When we were served, we were lined up on wooden, waterlogged tables and were sat next to each other, waiting for Overseer Keitel to announce the praise to the lord before we ate. “Today we praise the lord for our lucky meal...” A boy, Tom Healey, was already at his bowl, slopping up the gruel. With the click of his fingers, 2 of Keitel’s enforcers were at the boy, grasping his arms and lifting him up. “You know you are not allowed to start before I finish the praise to the Lord!” Keitel Barked. “I’m just....so damned hungry!” Tom sobbed. Once more, Keitel clicked his fingers, and the 2 henchmen were beating like crazy with canes and batons. Some others sobbed, watching their friend is savagely bashed. “We praise the lord for this lucky meal we have in front of us. Amen.” Keitel finished. And once again, we clacked our spoons, scooping up the pitiful gruel in our bowls amongst the crying, sobbing factory workers that day. The rock crushing facility was horrid. A truly grisly sight. We were marched in, our thin feet hitting the floor amongst the dirt and the blood from the mistreated prisoners, the sobs of the prisoners and the cracks of the whips being heard. I was terrified! “Why do we have to do this?” James Baker carefully whispered in my ear. The slightest noise the enforcers heard was brutal, savage chaos. “What did you say? You manky Slug!” Enforcer Kent yelled, cracking his whip over James head. James cowered behind me, shaking. Kent reached out and grasped Jack by the throat. “You say this once more, and you will be bashed to death!” He yelled, a savage punch to the nose threw him back, pushing him back into line. And we were shoved into the facility. It Was madness! Poor defencless kids being murdered by sheer brute strength of churning gears, and bare knuckle punch after punch into our crushed noses and bloodied jaws, cut and slit from whip stroke after whip stroke. (Covers face with hand.) Because of witnessing this I can never think of another happy thought again. This is just a segment of the horror I witnessed, and the hatred I saw. If I told you all of it, you would be sobbing, stomachs churning at the grisly accidents and atrocities commited that had lay before me.....