Debt (Arrival)

You parked your truck in front of a wooden house that needed another whitewash. It had green shutters next to the  two opened windows, where white curtains  fluttered  in the breeze.  Chickens pecked in the front yard under a large Oak tree and in the distance stood a red barn where a horse grazed and beyond that, a field of wheat that swayed in the wind.
 “Welcome to your new home,” you said happily  jumping out. 
“This was not my home,” I replied staring at this strange place, that looked better than Papa's, with disgust.  You said nothing in response to my outburst, just took my bag from the back of the truck and came around to  open my door. 
I didn’t move, just stared out in the distance. I  couldn’t even if I wanted too, my legs were frozen in place. I didn’t want to be here, didn’t want this place to be my home. I didn’t choose this, didn’t choose you.
You dropped  the bag, reached inside and lifted me out and I screamed.  Placing me over a shoulder, you reached down and grab the bag, and took me up the two steps with ease.
I was no match for your brute, I  only yelled  as you kicked open the door taking me inside.

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