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All I remembered was blood. It was everywhere. He whipped me till I cried. I had many scars. Each of them telling my story of pain. I had little hope left.
Conditions in the slave houses weren't good. We were all forced to sleep on the cold hard floor and wouldn't get mattresses.
The only time I found happiness was when I was with my mother. I never knew her too well since we were on different plantations and we could only see each other at night.
Someone make me my afternoon meal.
Whenever my mom couldn't come at night I would be forced to stay inside the slave headquarters otherwise I would get caught for sneaking out.
We always had to wake up extremely early and begin working. If we weren't there on time we would get whipped and beaten till we cried. The screaming and crying didn't do anything.
Our masters never needed to do anything. They lived a great life. They would just whip us and we would instantly do whatever they pleased.
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