understand, but not as much as Maltese, even though Italian had never been my strong suit.
******** Years and years and years passed, and yet I remained young as Valletta grew in population and housing. Nobody noticed my everlasting youth, as I had never been able to make any friends due to my communication problems. Nonetheless, I grew to understand the languages I was living in much better. My work however, was repetitive and mind numbing. I wasn’ t even able to know the date, but I knew I had been doing the same things over and over again, day after day after day, for years and I was fed up. I no longer valued the security of having a roof over my head and plain food to eat. I was home sick and missed my family more than ever, even though some details had become blurry. I wondered how tall my little brothers had grown and if my baby brother was doing well in his exams. I wondered if my grandparents were still alive and healthy. I wondered how my parents were coping. Had they forgotten me?
I hated being tied down by all these negative thoughts, so I ran away. I stole some of the males’ servants’ clothes, cut my hair and dressed up as a boy. I knew I still needed a way to make a living
somehow, so I joined a corsair galley at the Grand Harbour. The corso was plain old pirating, and it was taking life. As the Knights wanted to eliminate the Turks, they attacked their trading ships. Looting the Moslem galleys brought chests of gold, hundreds of slaves and a plethora of fine silk and spices for the fortunate corsairs. For those who weren’ t so lucky, well, I shuddered to think of the cruel consequences. A life in slavery meant a life of endless suffering under the Turks’ watchful gaze. And yet, I joined.
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