I’m breathing heavily but I know now that they stopped trying, I’m finally free. I never thought i’d actually say this. I have not slept in three days. All I’ve been doing is running away, but there is no worry in me, I’m free!
The sun finally came up. I liked watching the sunrise without having to work. I’d never thought I would actually sit and rest without having anyone screaming and hitting me every time I took a break.
The birds started singing and suddenly I remembered momma saying “we’re going to be free, just like the birds.”And here I am, I’m free!
I sit and wonder why I’m a slave and why I have to work for white men, and have whips and scars on my back, why I can’t live in a big house with my own field, and having white man work for me. I wonder why I can’t read and write like with man can. I sit here and think of all the reasons we “colored”people don’t have a voice and why white people think we’re a minority just because were colored.
The first time I tried to run, they set the dogs on me. Them dogs were mean. The white man, who used to whip us, used to feed those dogs bloody meat, so they’ll get meaner. Anyways when the white man set those dogs on me, they bit the skin on the back of my legs until the white man took the off. Now back in the quarters were we slaves slept, there was no light, the only light there was were those sunrays that hit the holes at the top of the roof. I remember I couldn't get up since the last time I tried to run off. I’ve been laying on the same floor where momma held me, momma was so nice, she always put others first. She was the one that took care of us when we were in need, but after I got held and started to walk again, momma had died.
It was a morning when I found out. She was always waking others up very early to go down the river to get water for the white men’s tobacco, but not this morning. I woke up in mommas arm. Every night me and momma would go to sleep cuddling in one another because it got really cold at night. Once I saw momma still asleep, I tried waking her up, but momma was gone.
Now mamma, she was really brave, I remembered when a little girl wrote some words on the floor, that had spelled “bag” the white man saw and took her to the wiping room. The whipping room was filled with all sorts of wips
“Who's been teaching this girl how to write?” he said but no one answered. Then he turned to her.
“Who’s been teaching you how to write?!” he said. The little girl just stood there silently
“Im’a ask you one last time. Who’s been teaching you how to write?” he said angrily. The girl looked up at him, and her eyes were filled with tears.
“I know nothing about writing.” she said. “I just copied something I saw in a rice bag.” But he believed no word. Momma was standing near the corner with children by her side. I could tell she didn't want to be there and neither did those kids, but the white man made all of us slaves watch.
The white man grabbed a white leather whip and before he could hit her, momma spoke.
“But how can she possibly write?” said momma.
The white man turned to where momma was.
“Have you been teaching this girl how to write?” the white man said.
“No sir I...I haven't,” she said looking down.
The white man didn't believe her.
“Then you’ll have to take her spot,” he said, grabbing momma by the arm and pushing the little girl aside. I tried grabbing momma’s hand but she said “don’t worry I’ll be fine, just bring the salt.”
The salt was to close wounds, but it hurt, bad!
I stood up and went to the quarters to get the salt for momma. Once I came back, momma was on the floor. Momma’s shirt was all filled with blood. I guess by this time, the white man was done. Momma was a strong woman, but she was more than that. She was my hero.
I got up from where I was sitting. The sun fully out. It wasn't cold and it wasn't hot. It was a fresh morning with one of those cool breezes. My mind raced through a lot of things, but especially, momma.
I was hungry and tired. I walked around the forest. I saw a frog leaping, so i had no choice than to eat it raw. If I had fire, they would easily find me.
I sat behind a tree and thought about how I had escaped. It was a wednesday afternoon and I was washing the windows when I heard the white lady tell someone inside that they were going to have a reunion at their house. That sunday, I heard her call my name and the names of 5 other slave girls. She said that she wanted us to hand out food and drinks. I had figured since people were coming in the house, the front door would be open. And that's when I had to run away, and I did, but now I've lost hope.
I ask myself: why did I run away? There's nothing I can do out here. I'll probably starve to death or something, some animal might come and hurt me. There's nowhere I can go; no place, no job. If I go back I'll probably die from all the whippings.
Time had passed by fast. It was dark, so I climbed up a tree and went to sleep.
I felt uncomfortable in my sleep. I dreamt that I was in trouble. That's when I woke up. But this time I wasn't on top of that tree, I wasn't on that forest. I was tied to some chair and it was dark. I saw some guy walk towards me and they laughed, they laughed at me.
They kept saying stuff like “went to catch a bear but we got ourselves a slave.”
And that's when I realized that segregation never ends. It just keeps going no matter what you try to do. So the cycle continues.