Forbidden Love

So I found an old assignment from when I was in 8th grade where we had to write a story based in colonial times with actual facts and stuff. It's actually not bad.

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Lydia wasn't one to disobey her parents; she had never broken a rule in her life. She did typical girl things such as quilting in her free time, and helped her family with the farm and supper. One summer day in 1770, her world changed. It all started the day that Lydia Johnson's aristocratic family of farmers bought a new slave. He was 17 years old and they called him Peter. Lydia wanted absolutely nothing to do with the slave, he was inferior to her and it wouldn't be right for her to talk to someone like him. One day however, Peter bumped into Lydia in the hallway and she dropped her bible. Books weren't common in colonial times as they were very expensive, but every household had a copy of the bible. Peter, being the gentleman he was, immediately reached down to pick it up.

"You can read?" asked Peter.

Lydia was slightly offended by the shock in his voice. "Yeah... why?"

"It's just that I haven't met a single person in Williamsburg that can read. Plus, I'd like to be able to read someday." said Peter.

"I could teach you." Lydia responded.

Their lessons began about once a week. During colonial times, school was for boys only and lasted until age 13 or 14. Girls were typically homeschooled. Secretly, Peter would sneak out of the fields and go into Lydia's room. At first, she was convinced that developing a friendship with Peter would be impossible. Not only because of his trouble speaking English, but also their social classes were completely opposite. Being a slave, Peter would be addressed by his first name, whereas Lydia would be called "Mistress" or "Madam" because she was a member of the upper-class.

Not a week passed, and they became close acquaintances. The lessons turned into just talking and getting to know each other. Peter even went to church with them on Sabbath Day, although he had to sit at the very back with his own social class. He stopped farming the tobacco and indigo in the warm Virginia air, both common crops for the climate. There were many other slaves to cover for him, and Lydia's father would never find out.

It wasn't until an angry Gentleman Johnson walked into his daughter's room and saw her laughing with a slave that Lydia realized she was in love with Peter. She was terrified of what her father might do to him. He could say that Peter killed another slave and have him branded, hanged, or even quartered.

"Lydia! How could you be friends with a slave?" her father bellowed.

"I love him." Responded Lydia.

"That's it; I've had enough of you, Peter." Gentleman Johnson raised his voice even more.

Peter, who could hardly understand the conversation, cowered in the corner with his eyes wide. He didn't have to understand every word to recognize the anger in his owner's voice.

"When was the last time you worked in the fields with the other slaves, Peter?!" He shouted, face red as a tomato.

Lydia's anger began to surface, "Why does it matter if you have one less slave, father? You just whip them to death!"

"Because they are animals! They deserve to be whipped, and I will do just that to your precious Peter." He grinned mercilessly before grabbing the slave by his ear as he stormed out of the room.

Lydia did not have the courage nor the right to intervene; it would be unthinkable for a woman to do such a thing! She could only watch as her father whipped Peter for abandoning his work in the fields. It was clear that he didn't want the boy to have anything to do with his daughter. Peter let out screams of agony each time the whip made contact with his dark skin, making Lydia wince and yell for her father to stop. He ignored her, whipping until Peter had passed out from the pain.

***

He awoke in the lonely slave quarters to see his best friend, Joseph, leaning over him.

"How are you feeling? Master Goodman's daughter stopped by earlier to help clean your wounds." Whispered Joseph.

"Sh-she said she loved me." Peter's voice was barely audible.

"She what?!" The shock was clear in Joseph's voice.

"I know. I couldn't believe it either... but... I think I love her, too."

At that very moment, Peter was startled by a knocking sound at the door. It was Lydia. He rushed to the door and let her in.

"Lydia? What are you doing here? If you get caught your father will never forgive you!"

"Calm down, Peter, he won't find out. We're going to run away to New Jersey, okay?"

"Anything to get away from this place." Peter breathed a sigh of relief. "When are we leaving?"

"Tonight. If you're ready we can go right now."

***

After several uneventful weeks of riding their stolen horses, Lydia and Peter arrived in New Jersey. Everything was going perfectly, they were accepted there.

None of that mattered the day that Lydia's father was spotted in New Jersey. Lydia was in town when she saw him. She brushed it off thinking it was just her mind playing tricks on her. If only Lydia had taken Peter and left right then.

Peter and Lydia were eating smoked venison for supper. Colonists often smoked or salted their meat so it would last longer. They were talking, laughing, and enjoying their freedom, when Peter took a sip of his beer. He stumbled to the floor seconds later. Lydia screamed and rushed to his side, but it was too late. Peter was gone. Who could have done this? Wondered Lydia, and then it struck. It was her father.

As the sudden realization hit, the closet door opened to reveal Goodman Johnson himself.

"Father, how could you?" Lydia was in tears.

"Easy, I poisoned his beer!" her father replied, smirking.

"I will never forgive you for this!" And with that, she picked up a knife off the kitchen counter and plunged it deep into her stomach. At least now we can be together, Peter...

***

The next day, Peter was startled by the sound of crow outside the dining room window. He woke up dazed and confused to see his beloved paramour lying in a pool of her own blood with a knife in hand. Did my lovely Lydia stab herself to be with me? He picked up the blade, inspecting its edge before stabbing it into his own heart.