The sunset lit the plantation a dim, golden glow, making the grounds look almost peaceful if I tuned out the other slaves' whispers and shouts. I loved this time of day; it almost made the plantation look more like Heaven than Hell.
Almost. Nothing could ever completely wipe away the bloodshed that has sank deep into the soil this house and field were built upon. Then again, why would the masters let us forget? It reminds us slaves to stay in our place, how easily replaceable we are. We are property, objects, animals.
Like wild animals, we were tamed and taught to do the tricks our masters demand, because if we don't, there will surely be punishment coming our way. The only difference is dogs are more highly regarded than we are, matter of fact, they use dogs to scent us if we choose to run. How sadistic is that, using one tamed animal to find another? I know they enjoy the chase, it brings them some sick satisfaction. It's truly awful, but we don't voice our opinion, for our maste...