I can still see the scars on my wrists and ankles. Slightly purple with bruises. I remember where they came from as well.
Our town was visited by the Inquisitors... I never felt I had done anything wrong. I pray to the Lord everyday. I repent for my sins. I say grace before every meal. Yet they called me to them one day. I went of course. You don't refuse the Inquisitors. To do so would be an act of heresy right there.
"Marcus Dina. You have been accused of heresy." said the man in the robe. His hood went down toward his eyes and left a large shadow down to his nose. I couldn't seem to understand what he said. I stood there for a moment, a blank expression on my face. Then my poor brain understood.
I fell to my knees,"Please Lord!" I cried. "I have done nothing, nothing!" Tears streamed down my face as I pleaded with him.
He would here none of it. Two men in armor roughly grabbed my arms and easily dragged me away. I stopped pleading but my eyes wouldn't dry.
The men dragged me down a hall and threw me into a cell. I landed in a heap on the filthy floor. I don't know how long I lay there. Days and nights are all alike in hell.
Eventually someone came for me. "Get up." he said. I tried to move and found myself somehow standing. "Now come along." My whole body was numb, along with my mind. I could not feel my legs moving, but I was still following him. He led me to a dark room where two hooded men were standing.
"Mr. Dina, would you like to confess?" The man on the left asked me.
"Confess to what, my lord? I have done nothing." My voice cracked and my eyes were swimming in tears again. I dropped to my knees again, "Please my lord, let me go. My wife and children will go hungry and my farm will be in ruins with no one to care for it."
"Enough!" said the man on the right. "It seems we will have to resort to different means."
What other means? I thought. What else could they do to me? I soon found out exactly what they could do to me.

"Come here."
I sighed and slowly got out of my desk. I audaciously walked down the aisle towards the teacher. His face was set in an austere expression. I could see the dislike in his hazel eyes; assaying me every step of the way. I imagined a baleful glow omitting from them.
I stopped about two feet in front of him. "Yes sir?" I asked, maybe a bit too loud. I wanted to assail him; let him know what I felt. But I contented myself by not breaking eye contact. This seemed only to antagonize him more.
"This class is not arbitrary, you can't just decide to do or not to do something." he asserted.
I felt attrited by both his gaze and his voice. I held my plot of arable ground for now.
He paused, possibly expecting a bandy of quick flying words with me. When none came he took a step forward, and seemed to augment before me.
"Just go sit down." he said weakly. Our eyes held gaze for a moment more before I turned to find my seat.
Safely seated. I retreated into the archives of my mind. I could picture him, a noble autocrat dressed in an array of finery, leading my class down a side walk. To his dismay, I took a step into the street. He ran to fix the one thing askew in his small world of power. He tried to complete the arduous task of getting me out of the street. He gave up when I was on the grass between the sidewalk and the road. He was seemingly content that I was out of the danger of the street, yet not as happy as he would be if I were on the sidewalk.
Math problems aroused me from my thoughts. Other students were giving him auspicious answers to his problems on the board. No one appraised me, it was as if I wasn't even there. They all ignored me as they apprised algebra. I put my head in my arms, feeling hot tears form at the corners of my eyes. Finally the bell rang, releasing us from his rule. I had lived through today but now I had to get through tomorrow.