Creative Writing: Child Labor

The factory was dark and dreary like it alway is when I got to work. I will sew and sew and sew from morning till night just as I do every other day. I mindlessly walk over to my station where the girl next to me has already started working. Without saying a word, I sit down and begin. I glance up after about an hour of working. My neck is sore so I move my hand up to massage my neck for a couple seconds as I look around the room. These are the same woman and girls that I have worked with for about two years now. I barely even know them even though I see them every day. They all wear grim and tired expressions as they move and work without a thought. Just then, a loud door can be heard closing from the front entrance. I flinch

She leaned her head forward, a strand of blonde hair coming loose from her bun, “He has us working all day and all year but keeps us working for cheap. It is always so cramped in here that I couldn’t stretch my arms without hitting something. It is terrible! This all is just terrible.” I nodded my head. Everything was terrible. Working at this factory is very hard and very tiring. We all have to report for work first thing in the morning, no matter the weather, and constantly work with no breaks until nightfall when the moon is in the sky. We never receive holidays and can only leave work if you are having a child. Even for that, you only receive four days to recover and then you’re back to work. The girl continued, “I can barely even breath in this ugly place. With no open windows nor any way to cool ourselves in the summer heat and warm ourselves in the freezing winter cold. I never even got to spend time with my children anymore. They have to keep the apartment clean and do all the housekeeping

My hand brushing against the soft cotton. Everything is just plain out unfair and wrong. We need a change from this. Is this what we are to be for the rest of our life? The life that God had gifted us?
The girl next to me then said, “We speak up. We should not stand for this no more.”
Many girls nodded their heads. They were brimming with emotion and determination. Some women were vocal with their agreement with those words. If a woman was not already standing, she stood up now. I too, decided to stand up. We were all going to fight this. Stare at this unjust treatment and fix it for ourselves. We are not to be treated this way. Everyone here has a family. Every human here has a life to be living. No more.
I looked back over to the window where the boss was sitting. He had not yet noticed the revolt waiting to happen. The employee though, was staring at us. Curiosity lit up his expression. He looked like a vulture watching an animal and waiting for its death so that it may eat. He was