The day of our escape backfired right at the beginning. It was time for breakfast, and Mr. Freeman had walked out to the porch of his house. “Douglass! I believe the police want to ask you some questions,” he called. I separated from my slaves, who were walking to the barn. The police? The only visitors that come around was Freeman’s family. When I came to the door, I immediately asked what was the matter, when the police appeared and jumped me. The ruckus startled Mr. Freeman, but he did nothing to help me. Soon, I was on the floor, kneeling and outraged.
I was captured instantly. Some time later, another slave came in and requested for me to return. At once, he was commanded to stay where he was and to keep his hands in front of him. The slave, who I recognized as one of my students, firmly refused. The sheriffs were not too pleasant to hear that and quickly got out a some sharpened sticks. “Slave, if you do not get down, something unfortunate will happen to you.” Yet the stubborn student still refused. “I will not be forced to stand down to the likes of you,” the slave yelled. With a motion fast as lightning, he socked the sheriff and put his fists up.
I was burning our fake documents in the fireplace while I heard the the smacking and shouts of the warring fight. Finally, the slave backed down, which lead to him got caught with me. His face was purple with injuries and I could hear him muttering something foul. My searching continued. “We haven’t found anything against him for the moment,” the police said. To me, that meant I was left locked up in a small cell for further questioning. I was lucky enough for Master Freeman to free me, but I do not know what happened to my comrade down there. But I will not let his sacrifice be in vain. As I sit here, in my comfy home, I hope that men of any color will be equal.