My Chapter 2-3

Okay so here are the chapters. I underlined two ages which I made up, but you can definitely change based on the age of our main character. I was little confused about the two plantations, but hopefully these two chapters follow along the storyline pretty well:

Chapter 2: Family and Plantation Life

After the dreadful slave auction in which I was sold, I frequently found myself wondering about my mother and father. I had barely received enough time to spend with my mother before my old master, William Scott, sold me off for a decent price along with Martha when I was only ten years old. While I considered Martha as my second-mother, a part of me always remembered that my lovely mother was back on the plantation in pain from losing me. As far as my father goes, I was always fully aware of that fact that Master Scott was my one and only father. My skin is much farer than most of the slaves on my old plantation and many of the older female slaves would sneakily talk in hushed voices around me. I can still hear the voices in my head repeating the words, “Lucky Clara’s mamma’s kept her mouth shut, or who knows what will happen to her and that poor bastard [Peter]”. However, if the father of a slave’s child is indeed the slave’s master, they are not allowed to discuss the father of their baby. Usually, many of the illegitamate children were sold off to new plantations, like me, separated from their families. I always wished that one day, I could relive my childhood and get to know my parents all over again, but then I’d have to live with that awful William Scott.

Food allowance under William Scott meant almost no food to live with for the whole year. We received a small allowance of food every month, consisting of a bushel of corn meal and a few pounds of meat, usualy pork. This was barely enough food to survive through the frezing winters and the scorching-hot summers, along with the endless tasks we had every day. Many times, I would divide my food in half and give the share of food to my brother, Peter, since as an older sister, my duty was to protect my younger sibling in all situations possible. He used to thank me for every ounce of meat I gave him and paid me back by singing to me in his lovely voice. At least his voice made up for the hunger and starvation I felt under Master Scott’s control. At least his voice helped to remind me of why I was still alive: to protect my family.

William Scott gave us a few forms of clothing every year, with about two shirts, one pair of pants, a jacket, some underwear, and a pair of shoes, but my new masters made sure that their slaves were well-clothed. Martha and I, along with other slaves on the Lexington Plantation, were provided with three shirts, pants for the summer and another pair of trousers for the winter, a jacket, stockings, and two pairs of shoes to work in the fields. These clothes usually fit the purpose of keeping us warm in the early fall and cool in the spring, but again, they were not enough for the extreme seasons. I lost many of my friends because they were not able to handle to abrupt weather changes with their clothes.

On the new plantation with John and Sarah Hopkins, we were given a corn meal every week and lots of meat. The Hopkins would always leave us with leftover bread rolls and would even give us pudding or pie for desert when we worked extra hard. If we followed all of their rules, we were allowed a 5-6 day holiday for Christmas and another holiday for Easter. In order to receive our holidays, we [the slaves] would work very hard and finish our tasks of picking cotton and managing the grains on time. We would sing and tell stories during our chores to make the day at least a little interesting, and then at night, we would all gather in our hut to sleep well in preparation for the next day’s chores.

During the holidays, free time was mainly spent with family, although the closest thing I had to family was Martha. Martha and I would make pots out of mud and she would help me dream about seeing my brother and mother again. Even though we knew that this was a hopeless thing to want, knowing as runaway slaves are greatly punished, I couldn’t help but imagine my life with a family for the holidays. But of course, life with the new master and mistress wasn’t too bad after all, especially compared to the horrible conditions under Master William Scott.

Chapter 3: Master and Mistress

William Scott. Those two words will haunt me forever. He is my father, and he was the most violent and immoral slave master I have ever encountered. His plantation was a torture chamber, and his slaves were his torturees. Every day, whippings were witnessed, but the worst whipping by far was given to my brother, Peter. I have had so many gruesome nightmares as a result of that one night, that it is impossible for me to relieve myself of this memory.

One summer day, when Peter was helping me clean out the chicken coop, with our bare hands of course, Peter became dizzy because of the heat. We had finished our month’s supply of food a few days before, and we were swallowing our spit to help keep ourselves dehydrated. All of a sudden, he grabbed my arm very tightly and then passed out. I had no idea what to do, as I was only eight years old at the time, and so I decided to go call upon the master to help my helpless brother. I never repeated this action again because it ended up being one of the worst decisions of my entire life.

Scott feigned concern for my brother up until he entered the coop. He saw my brother lying on the floor, confused and slowly opening his eyes. Before my brother could even utter a word, the master had Peter’s hands tied to the door with no shirt on. Our master pulled out a long whip and began slashing lines across my brother back; ten whips soon turned into forty, after which my brother passed out again. The sad thing is, William Scott probably felt no regret from the excruciating pain my brother encountered that day and for the event that scarred my brother’s life forever.

William Scott’s plantation was filled with whippings and beatings, every form of physical punishment you could imagine. Lucky for the slaves, William Scott’s children greatly abhorred him. Katherine Scott, his oldest daughter, always appeared to help heal our wounds and burns, and would secretly insult her father behind his back. She was an absolute sweetheart and proved very helpful later in my journey as a slave. Even when her father was selling me at an auction, she was right there by my side, begging for me to stay.

While Katherine’s wishes were ignored, I found happiness with my new master and mistress, John and Sarah. While they were strict and required all of their work done on time, the slaves were treated well with a sufficient amount of food and clothes, as mentioned earlier. At their Lexington Plantation, slaves were not sold unless the masters were in desperate need of financial aid, but families almost always remained together. This was the one thing I loved about Lexington Plantation. I did not have to witness my friend’s families being split apart as mine was at William Scott’s plantation.

Sarah Hopkins favored me greatly, and out of all of the slaves, I was one of the few slaves who got to work inside the house, taking care of her children and helping her bake. She even taught me how to read and write. These skills were forbidden to be taught to slaves, but I am grateful that she took the time to teach me. Soon enough, I was taking every free moment I had to read the books in Mrs. Hopkins’ house. (I know literacy is another chapter, but I thought we could add a little bit here too?)

John Hopkins, on the other hand, paid little attention to interacting with the slaves. He was kind when needed, but otherwise, he spent most of his time watching over our work and making sure everything was done correctly. A typical day for slaves under his eyes was spent plowing the cotton, but with many breaks, and then helping manage their vegetable gardens. I can still remember watching the slaves eagerly waiting for their breaks while I happily baked bread in the kitchen.

Their plantation was a big change from the arduous tasks we performed under Master Scott’s control, but it also gave me a false insight into slavery. Yes, the slaves were given warnings if they failed to follow the Hopkins’ assignments, but they were not whipped or beaten as on the Scott plantation. Soon enough, I began to realize that I needed to go back to the old plantation to save my family and bring them to this safer location.