Skin Deep

Chapter 1

 

 

 

 

This story may be hard to find because of its rating, so add it to your library! Hope you enjoy, it’s not completley historically correct, just based in a historical time! Just warning you.

1760 Slavery was at an all-time high, one genre of slavery in particular.

The Black Slave Trade. The transportation and breeding of slaves from the Africa’s and West Indies grew year by year, and showed no tell-tale signs of relenting. The trade not only provided Britons with a source of regular income, but also an endless expanse of cheap labour. 

To Lord Thomas- Frances Ashford, coloured people were the scum of the earth, useless creatures who evidently missed out on the beauty of evolution. To him they were absolutely nothing. Thomas disliked the race so much he was even persuaded that if he was to dissect one of them he would find nothing resembling a human being within.

Thomas’s high calibre in the social ladder meant that his contact with the slaves was limited, so naturally he wasn’t at all pleased to be in their presence and found no need to hide the disgust he felt around them.

Thomas hastened in speed as he flew through the parted sea of men tipping their heads ever so slightly in his direction, as per usual the young nobleman made no attempt to acknowledge the show of respect and made his way up the short staircase to his seat, as far away as he could get from the rest of the nobles and commoners.

As the first slave was hauled onto the poorly made stage Thomas hissed in disgust, the scrawny young man, most likely not over the age of 18 was in terrible condition, his skin if possible was even darker than most of the slaves - tinted by the dirt and disease that clung to him. Numerous bones peeked out through his rotting flesh, and it was obvious that with his weakness he would last barley a month in hard labour.

"Why must father force me to attend these auctions, when he knows how much I hate them?" Thomas grumbled quietly to his caretaker who stood silently beside him.

"If you leaned to his will and bought a slave it would all end my Lord.  You know your father is a man of, well, different ideals.” The old man began with a chuckle.

“He believes owning and caring for your own personal slave will offer you lessons in responsibility." The father like figure finished, humoured by the young lord’s behaviour.

Thomas proceeded to slump in his chair, a frown etched itself onto his face as he remained seated for what seemed like hours, with nothing better to do than twiddle his fingers.

Jendayi Naja Olukayode was a petite girl, brought from her home deep in the plains of Africa, undernourished and uncared for the smaller than usual girl rested her head against the darkness of the cold brick wall.

Silence.

Silence loomed over the heads of every person stood in that room, neither of them knew why God had chosen such a fate for them, they had lived good lives, and most of them were good people.

Jendayi herself was a sweet, caring girl with a good heart. She was the daughter of the tribe healer and spent most of her days with her Mother mixing herbs, tending to wounds and birthing new life. At 17 years she was much too innocent and naive, and this being her first auction she did not know what was to come.