Sarah's Roses, Book II: Roses of White

Chapter XXI

Chapter XXI

A horrible scream made the three of us jump. Good Lord, that had to be Prissy. Lulu, Elsie, and myself exchanged glances and I then took off for her room, Elsie close behind me.

Prissy’s room was a tiny little thing, more like a closet than a room. She had insisted on having a room all to herself, saying living with another person was death to her. Since we all lived in the slave’s quarters, finding something that would suit her was not easy, but at last the little room had been set up for her.

Coming over to her room, we saw Sands standing quite paralyzed in the open doorway. Prissy was inside, screaming her head off. Elsie shoved the man out of the way and the two of us ran in.

“He’s in my room!” Prissy shrieked when she saw me. “The Yank is in my room! He’s going to have his way with meeeeeeee!”

I grabbed her arms, “he’s not going to hurt you, Prissy. Didn’t George warn you? The soldiers are searching the house, and everyone was supposed to go the parlor.”

Prissy paid no attention to my words and went on screaming at the top of her lungs.

“Come on, Prissy, let’s go,” I tried to pull her from her chair, but she was in hysterics and refused to budge. Elsie came to my rescue and forcefully yanked her out of her seat. We began leading her out of the room but Prissy shrieked all the louder and fought the two of us.

“Priscilla Melissa Thompson, stop this right now! No one is going to hurt you as long as you cooperate,” I shouted at her, my patience having run rather thin. Between Elsie and myself we managed to drag the screaming, fighting Prissy out of the room and towards the parlor. Halfway we were met by Robert, who had come running.

“Is everything alright?” He breathlessly asked.

“Everything is fine,” I struggled to make myself heard and keep Prissy under control. “Prissy is just having a fit.”

“Who?”

“Priscilla Thompson,” Elsie hollered. Her voice was stronger than mine and better heard over Prissy. “She’s the neighbor’s daughter.”

Robert slowly nodded his head, staring wide-eyed at the scene of us dragging Prissy into the parlor. Once inside, it didn’t get any better. Poor Evy jumped up in fright at the sight of Prissy and ran to George for protection. Elsie tried to get Prissy to sit down, but Prissy balked and repeatedly tried to hit her.

That action caused me to lose the last strand of patience. Roughly grabbing her shoulders, I began shaking her with all my might. “Prissy, you shut that mouth of yours,” I yelled at her, “you’re driving us all mad. Stop screaming this instant or I swear I’ll hit you, I’ll hit you so hard you’ll find yourself screaming from pain.”

At first she didn’t pay any attention to me, but when I raised my hand she gulped down the remnants of her hysterics and collapsed into a chair. Burying her face into her hands, she sobbed loudly, “You all have no sympathy for my feelings! How can you threaten me like that? How can you be so cruel? What would you have done if a Yankee soldier barged into your bedroom like that?”

“What were you doing in the bedroom? Didn’t George tell you to come to the parlor?”

“I do not take orders from a slave,” Prissy lifted her head and spoke in a cold tone. “If I wish to remain in my room, then I shall remain in my room. That man,” she pointed towards George, “has to remember who he is and who I am.”

“He just happens to be the only man we’ve got!” I shot back at her, “And everything he has ever done so far is to protect who you are, and that is a woman. I asked him to bring you here because the house is being searched.”