A Simple Deception

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"The Revolution came to the island, and the next decade was a haze of fighting ... killing. Master was murdered in '91, as were many of the petit blancs. The slaves turned on their masters, and those who weren't killed escaped. But we were not free. It was believed that the island would not prosper without the plantations, and who better to farm them than the slaves? Instead of masters, it was the military, and we were forced to labour in much the same way.

"But we survived. And when the French were finally defeated in '04, and Saint-Domingue became Haiti, we were freed. Freed, but still forced to labour. So, I took my mother up into the mountains where I knew of a maroon community. And then I fled Haiti."

The rest Susanna could piece together. At some point, Alex had met Mr Bishop, and at another, he had journeyed to England. And a thousand other choices had led him to be sitting by the pond on the Ashwood estate on this day in September. But she never could have predicted such a tale, and she never could have grasped such character and soul.

Alex adored his mother, it was clear, and Susanna hoped that she was safe, wherever she was. What an extraordinarily brave and selfless woman.

But her heart absolutely broke for Alex. It bled. What unfathomable cruelty he had endured, and yet he had survived to tell the tale. To be a child of six and to have suffered such a lashing ... he had to carry those scars to this day. Scars that were visible, and scars that were not. Susanna hated to imagine the scars that she could not see.

Susanna went to apologise. It seemed instinctual, but he had asked her not to.

"I have never told anyone my story before," Alex finally murmured. "Not even Len. It's a story shared by far too many, and far too many are not alive anymore to share what happened, how they should have survived."

"Thank you for trusting me." Susanna reached out for Alex, and she placed her hand atop his large forearm.

She felt the muscles tense underneath her touch, and he turned towards her with an inquisitive stare, as though he was searching her face for fear. But Susanna wasn't afraid. He hadn't frightened her but marvelled her with his strength and spirit.

Alex's entire face softened as he continued to look at her, to look in to her. His brows slowly lowered as his mouth parted in realisation. "Good Lord, I do trust you," he realised softly. "I trust you."

"I'm glad," replied Susanna tenderly.

"Why are you so good?" Alex asked, almost sounding as though he was in disbelief.

Susanna didn't know how to answer such a question. She had already explained to him how she didn't believe that she was better than anyone else, the same as she didn't believe anyone else was better than her.

She had longed for worldliness, and she had just received her first dose. And she wanted so badly to apologise. Susanna would grieve later, she knew it. She would cry for the boy who was lashed, for the mother who endured all manner of horrors to keep her son alive.

"I wish this had never happened to you. To any of you," Susanna whispered. "You back ... how that must pain you."

"It doesn't pain me anymore," Alex replied quietly. "I feel it every night when I sleep. The tissue is harder, and the pressure does bother me sometimes, but I choose not to feel the pain."

Susanna's eyes unwittingly flicked to the collar of Alex's shirt out of uncontrollable curiosity. Alex noticed.

"I don't want to frighten you," he murmured again.

Which gave Susanna something desperately to prove. "You won't."

Alex looked upon her warily as he climbed up to his feet. He took a few steps away from her and she watched as he reached behind his head to grasp the collar of his shirt. Susanna quickly stood as well and watched on.

Alex tugged on his shirt and pulled it up and over his head, soon exposing her to the dark skin of his back. His back was broad and strong, and the surrounds of it were perfectly smooth. But across the middle of his back was a mess of raised black scars that looked like a mess of dark web. His back was a work of anger and hatred, a prime example of cruelty, and it was a harrowing thing to see.

But Susanna quickly understood that it was a far more harrowing thing to experience, and at one point in time, these wounds had been open sores, bleeding, diseased, and ... and they had been on the back of a boy.

She closed the distance between them without thinking much about it, reaching out to him and laying her hand against his skin for the second time, only this time the palm of her hand rested on the raised, hard lumps of skin that protruded from Alex's back. The moment her hand came into contact with Alex's skin, she felt a shudder down his spine.

She could see his pain, and she could feel his pain, and all Susanna wanted to be able to do was to take it away. Alex suddenly turned around and captured her extended hand in his. She gasped as she looked up at his face, the face she had thought, and still thought, was beautiful. Only now she knew the man. And something stirred within her stomach that she had never felt before.

Before she knew what was happening, Alex had closed the distance between them, capturing Susanna's lips in a passionate embrace.

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Hope you enjoyed it! 

The research that went into this chapter was honestly devastating. The people of Saint-Domingue (and later Haiti) were some of the most, if not the most, brutally treated slaves in the world during this time, and I honestly couldn't write some of what was sanctioned by the French colonisers. The sugar and coffee trade was so productive out of Haiti purely because these people were worked to death and then quickly replaced.

What is even more devastating is that slavery is still a problem in Haiti today. Over 200,000 people are still enslaved today and there is more human trafficking in Haiti than any other Central or South American country. Child slavery and sex slavery are a huge problem. If you want to learn more about it, or you feel inclined or are able to help, please visit https://restavekfreedom.org/issue/

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