Doing Writing Commissions For Points
The sound of the whip going down upon my friend’s body caused me to wince. Everyone, winced, cried, or hollered at our slave master for doing this. But, he paid no heed to our weeping and continued to beat her, showing no remorse. She was simply cleaning our master’s daughter, as what he had demanded her to do. We had the hunch that he was drunk and did not care about us, or anything else besides his pathetic drinking. Master only uses us so that he does not have to look after his child, he could go right back do drinking and doing whatever else he is doing and leave us, and even his own daughter to do the heavy work. His daughter is eight and does not know why we work for our father. We know why: he would kill us if we don’t and none of us want to be dead. We want to go back to our own lives and do our own work, not his own. My friend and I always look after his daughter Annabelle and make sure that she is clean and make sure that she tends to her studies with her private tutor.
When no one is watching, I sometimes sneak in and listen to them, what she could learn with this man, and what information that I could possibly gather from him. She is smart for her age, and I practice what she has been taught almost every night. My mother sometimes even learns from me, teaching her how to write and read, and including the alphabet. Annabelle brings her books over to the barn and reads to the other slaves. She reads chapter books sometimes, but, sometimes it is only books that children her own age would read. I’m sixteen, as what she tells me, because I look and sound like a teenager, but. I just classify myself as another human being, but only with darker skin than the white people, as what my mother says we are.
When our master is done beating my friend, who seems to be the same age as me, since she and I were both two at the time when we were sold to our master before he was married and had Annabelle with his wife, being kinder than our master would ever be. She makes sure that we are well taken care of and fed, but, if she is caught, our master would steal the food back that we were given and feed it to the pigs, turning it into inedible slop.
I do not understand why master would just decide to throw away our meal and feed it to the pigs. The thought sickened me and my friend; as well as my mother. My friend, Roberta, was like my sister. She would always be there for me whenever my day had slid down into what seemed like a black hole, unable to pick myself up and dust myself off. Every time my master would whip me, she would always step in and be by my side. But, in doing so, she would receive the whip as well. “Why would you even help me,” I would ask her, and she would always reply, “Because, you are my sister.”
“Get back to work, you good for nothing sack of waste!” Master would holler to my friend, tears streaming down her face as well as blood from the whip. I wanted to run over and help her, but, mother held me back and shook her head as if to say “This is none of your concern.” The thought of her just upon her knees and elbows as if bowing to him. It made me sick and frustrated as the other slaves and I went about our daily chores.
Annabelle came bounding toward me, the makeshift doll that my mother had made her in her hands. A smile was spread across her rosy cheeks as I smiled and knelt down so that I was eye level with her. “Elisa!” The name that she gave me since my master never really had given me a name, and, my mother was reluctant to give me one as well. My brown eyes looked into her own as I placed my hand on her shoulder.
“How are you, Sweetie Bird?” I nicknamed her that due to the way she always tried to sing like the robins in the garden. She always thought that they were pretty and sometimes wanted to adopt one.
“I’m fine, Elisa! Could you please come and help me? My father is busy and my mother is working on knitting a dress for me for a dance that she and father are going to, and she wants me to tag along. Could you help me with my hair?” I had braided my hair and never someone else’s. But, perhaps if she wanted me to help her out, then I guess I have no other option. I nodded. Annabelle squealed in delight and grabbed me by the arm, following her to her room as she dragged me along and receiving a kind smile from the mistress. Her smile always made me feel happiness, for she was the only thing that was good about my master’s other side besides Annabelle.
I came past some of the other slaves that were cleaning and doing other work around the house as I came inside the girl’s room. Many makeshift toys and children’s books littered the ground as I tried to move around the room without stepping on anything since I was not wearing any shoes. She grabbed a small pin from and hair tie by the toy bin and placed them in my hand as I saw her glossy hair. I smiled and began to braid as neatly as I could, leaving a few strands out cause it seemed to suit her well. The braid stayed after twenty minutes of fixing it as she looked into her mirror, smiling and giving a twirl as if she were a dancer. Annabelle smiled ran over to me, her small hands wrapping around my lower torso and I patted her back in a calm and gentle fashion as she ran downstairs to show her mother. I chuckled and walked down the stairs, soon walking out of the house so that I could continue knitting and helping some of the men with picking cotton.
The sun beat down upon my skin, causing some sun burn to begin to take affect around my body. Sweat beamed off my forehead and dripped to the ground as I could hear some men calling for help from some of the other slaves, one even collapsing due to exhaustion. His body was skinny, and many whip marks scarred his back and face. I approached him and helped him up, another man that was older than myself helped him up as well and took him to the barn as we grabbed some water from the trough near the barn and splashed it around his face.
“Thank you,” the man would say to me and the other slaves. He had been here for some time due to the amount of scars that had been left on his body, as well as the white and grey hairs that covered his face and head. He stunk of body odor due to the sun and not having the chance to wash his body in a while. And, due to the mistress and Annabelle like me, I sometimes even had some special treatment.
“You’re welcome.” My voice was gentle as my mother approached him, using some plants that she had picked to help him with the pain. She was known for her knowledge in medicine as well; maybe that was why master chose my mother and I.
“Nice to see you again, Abraham,” my mother spoke, her voice gentle and considerate, almost like the mistress’ voice. The man, who I now know as Abraham, smiled and closed his eyes, his voice deep and raspy.
“Nice to see you again as well, Miranda.”
“You should rest. I’ll tell the mistress that you are in need of some rest and food, and I will even steal it for you if I must.” My mother was always a kind and graceful woman, not afraid to put her life on the line for those who need anything from her. And, even if it meant that she received twenty or more lashes, she would be more than happy to take them if it meant that someone would be healthy and able to please.
She stood up and walked over to our master’s house as I knelt down and looked over Abraham as he smiled at me through closed eyes, knowing I was beside him due to the sweat and body odor that came off my body. “Hello there, child,” he would speak, his tone elderly yet kind and gentle, just like my mothers. We slaves always had to stay with one another and talk about stories about being free and independent someday, but, I was sometimes skeptical about the whole situation for those who leave, sometimes either is forced back here or die while being on the run.
“I assume that you have heard many stories about the Underground Railroad, our freedom?” He opened his eyes, blindness was noticeable due to the cloudiness that his eyes possessed, but I paid no heed as I nodded my head. He smiled, his lips chapped and peeling due to lack of moisture. “Good, you need them if you ever have a chance to escape this dreadful place. If I either chose death or being here, I would choose death, aren’t we all people?” I nodded, he was right, I would sometimes receive lashes from my master, but, I would be scared if I ran away and was killed or brought back here to be killed.
Before I could answer him, mother came back with a large glass of water that mistress probably let her have. He gulped it down at a quick pace, causing my eyes to widen as he probably did not even take a breath as he gave a sigh after drinking it. Mother was shocked as well, but, she seemed happy that she was able to get him a drink if it meant saving Abraham’s life, and, if I could, I would probably do the same as well, even if master were to whip me. But, I also did not wish to leave since Annabelle was pretty much the only friend I had besides Roberta.
“Come on, darling, you should sleep, it is gettin late,” my mother would speak as I lied down on the barn floor. She placed her body beside Abraham to make sure that if he needed anything, she would get it for him. I just wish that someday, I could be like my mother, not afraid to change anything.
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