It has been one moon since I began work.
It is difficult, but not quite as hard as it was when I began.
My mistress is still stern and cruel, but it no longer affects me as much. She has a right to hate me. I am a Hebrew. I mean nothing to anyone. I have been told it is a dirtiness of my blood.
Mother gave birth to another son weeks ago and they took him and killed him. They grabbed the tiny baby and threw him off a cliff into the Nile.
There he floated for a few moments until he sunk to the bottom of the Nile.
It took only minutes.
Mother could not bear herself. We watched from behind the reeves nearby as they tossed him carelessly down. As if they could not hear an infant screaming.
Mother tried to drown herself with him.
I did not let her, though for a moment I thought I might try to drown with her.
What is this life?
I once felt this flame of indignation burning within me. I still feel it warming me at times, but I fear that the light is flickering. It has lost fuel and is almost gone completely. I am so scared. I do not want to turn into a machine.
I want to feel.
I want to hate.
But sometimes it is just too tiring.
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