Freedom. Not so Much.

Part 2

June 8, 1851

Kya's P.O.V.

Tonight we slept in our small hut. Which is so dirty that I can barely breathe in there. But since I've been a slave for 12 years, I've kind of gotten used to it. But with 20 slaves fit into one small hut, it takes a lot of getting used to. I'm still angry that we came here in the first place. If it wasn't for white people, I would still be in Zimbabwe in my nice, clean, spacious room with my sister.

Me and Halle sat by the warm fire on the cool wood floor in our home. I could here that crashing of the water from Victoria Falls nearby. Followed by the sweet whistling of the trees. We're laughing about a joke that Halle just told and I can see Father holding Mother close to him and they're both smiling down on us.

Those simple moments are all I live on. Besides my mother, I wouldn't be able to survive without my precious memories.

That one specific memory always puts me to sleep. And then some nights, I have nightmares about my not so precious memories.

Today the sun was bright and the wind was blowing freely in my hair. Me and Halle are watching Victoria Falls from a distance. We sat there laughing and tickling each other. We stop when we hear my mother calling our names. We knew Victoria Falls would be right where we left it so we quickly raced to our patient mother. I saw Mother and Father waiting inside the door frame. Mother had a worried look on her face while Father had a nervous smile. After he told us that he would be going on a business trip and should be back by tomorrow, me and Halle were ready to take off back to Victoria Falls. Then Father said, "If I'm not back by tomorrow, don't worry. I will surely be back by your birthday." He said the last part looking at me. My birthday was in a week and I was hoping he wouldn't be gone that long. The next five days went by with no sign of Father coming back. At first I wasn't really worried until he still didn't come back after my birthday. Then everyday after that I would find Mother crying in the kitchen. She was practically crushed. He never came back. Ever.

Me and Mother woke up early the next morning. It was time to do our normal routine which hasn't changed at all since I first came here. I've never been at any other plantation than this one so all I've ever done, practically my whole life, was pick cotton. Mother and I picked cotton as fast as our hands could allow. I could feel that strong sun beating on my whipping scars on my back. It must be June or July. I wouldn't know. They have no calendars or clocks or anything. And if you tried to ask the slave drivers for the time, they would either shoot you or whip you to death. You weren't allowed to talk to the slave drivers unless they spoke to you. I was scared they would kill me at any moment but then again, I wasn't that scared of them because I knew that if we fought back we would win. Mother and I were both almost done with our share when I heard a young child crying and a mother screaming for help. I turned around where everyone was looking to find two slave drivers whipping both that child and the mother to death. I would have stood up to help them if I were brave. But I'm not.

"What did they do?" I asked a little too loud to my mother.

She pressed her finger to her mouth then said in a whisper, "Nothing to deserve that."

That was actually the first time I've ever heard my mother say anything bad about them. It was probably because it was a mother and child being whipped and she probably imagined that being me and her.

It hurt to watch the child and mother being whipped and nothing to do to help. But the part that hurt the most was hearing the crying and the pleading suddenly stop. What if that was me and my mother?

Hope's P.O.V.

I was picking out normal amount of cotton next to Kya. I'm so lucky to still have her here. I can tell that she gets upset at me for accepting this life as it is but the only reason I am is because I have her. If I didn't have her, then I would have absolutely nothing. I would have no husband, no daughters, no reason to keep living.

I heard a mother and child screaming and immediately when I saw them, I pictured me and Kya. How devastating that would be. How I would feel like such a failure for letting Kya down. Kya brought me back to reality when she asked what they did wrong. I honestly didn't know but all I knew was that they didn't deserve to die. Kya asked her question loudly and I didn't want the slave drivers to hear and then the mother and the child crying become us.

So I whispered back, "Nothing to deserve that."

I was angry at the slave drivers and everyone for the first time in a long time. How could they do that to the poor child. I would have stood up for the mother but that would have gotten me killed and I couldn't do that to Kya. Sometimes I wish I would've listened to Kya's idea of turning on the slave drivers and masters. But the only thing that I'm going to do is keep Kya safe, no matter what it takes.

We were on to cleaning the 200 pounds of cotton that we just picked. My fury hasn't completely died down so I tried my best to stay clear of the slave drivers so I don't attack one of them. While cleaning the cotton, I would look up at Kya. She was my angel. She was getting older now. By now, she was probably 15. She had the most beautiful hazel eyes and the darkest and smoothest skin. With the shiniest and straightest hair ever. She was quite stunning. If we were never taken, she would have probably had many boyfriends. No guy would ever turn her down.

When I started thinking about love lives, I trailed off to Jawara, my husband. I thought of how we met at Victoria Falls and how we fell in love. Then I thought about how he never came back from his business trip. I don't even know if he's alive or dead. I just hope he's not going through what we're going through. I hope he's safe at home, in Africa, with no worries. I know that I will never see him again in my life, so I'm excited for when I see him in heaven. Where Kya, Halle, Jawara and I will be. Where no white people will ever exist.

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