A Song For Slaves

106 2 0
                                    

(((Thanks guys SO much for reading!!  I would absolutely LOVE if someone could possible make me a cover?;D And maybe even edit some of my writing, I am HORRIBLE at spelling!! Kisses!!!  Love, Katie:) )))

Chapter 1:

The heat was unbearable.  I felt sweat trickle down my neck as I picked each individual fluff of cotton.  My hands were rough, blistered, and bleeding from the continuous pattern of plucking each peice.  My back ached and I was exhausted from the long and tretcherous day.  I still worked though, because the fear of being whipped haunted my memory.  My name is Amara, I have been a slave since I can remember.  Infact, I think I was born at this very plantation.  My Ma tells me stories that as a child, I had such a good singin' voice that I could always turn the worst days better.  I looked around to see what seemed like hundreds of slaves plucking cotton.  I raised my hand and wiped the sweat from my forehead.  I looked over to see the sun beginning to set in the horizon.

            It must of been around five oclock because the same sunset always seems to be painted across the sky.  I continued to look around and spotted my little sister, Makena, concentration on the cotton she was picking.  I laughed, just a little at that sight.  She seemed so focused on something that happened everyday.  But at this time of hour, almost everything was funny.  Bending down, plucking each spiky peice of fluff, I began to hum a familiar tune, Amazing Grace.  Halfway through I began to sing, so softly only my ears could pick up the sound.  Slowly my voice began to get louder.  Suddenly another voice joined in, and another, till there were multiple voices all singing in harmony. The paeon of voices grew till im sure, almost everyone was singing.  I lifted my head to see us as a whole, united in song.  I looked over to my sister and ave her a wink as she answered in a smile.  For once, I felt happy and content, if only I could freeze the moment.

          I pulled back my long black hair behind me and brushed the whispy bangs out of my eyes.  I looked down at my feet, smuthered in dirt.  I sighed and continued on my...job...

A Song For SlavesWhere stories live. Discover now