"You alrigh' Miss?" The slave ask, for wha' seem like the millionth time. She hand me the glass a water- as expected, an' come sit in the chair next ta me. Originally- I was jus' down 'ere by myself- but it was scary an' I kept seein' the dream over an' over in my eyes, so I went up an' woke 'er. She was a good sport about it- but I suppose she had ta be. She only a slave after all.
"I-I..." I sigh, loudly- take a gulp of the water, then sigh 'gain. Why should I lie to a slave? Who she gonna tell anyway? "Well... No. No I'm not alrigh'."
"Oh!" She exclaim, rather surprised. She had never thought fo' a moment that I'd be rather honest. She compose her self real fast though, an' quietly ask, "Well- what can I help you with Miss?"
"I'm jus' confused is all," I say, honestly. I jus' don' kno' what to do anymo'. I don't kno' who to trust, who ta like an' who to hate. I kno' who I should- but I don't feel it anymo'. I feel like I like Samuel an' Cecile, mo' than no one white. An' the Misses now- mo' than daddy.
An' I dunno even how I feel bout my mother no mo'. I'm startin' to accept that wha' Cecile said was a lie.
"Wha' yo' confused 'bout sweetheart?" She ask. "Would tea make it better?" I sigh, fo' the third time. I wish it were that easy- tea would jus' make everythin' go back ta normal.
"Nah- it wouldn't. Don't bother," I whisper- forcin' her to scoot in real close so she can hear me.
"Well wha' yo' confused 'bout?"
"Everythin'," My voice is so quiet an' small. I feel so little. Like I child again, confinin' in Cecile. She would stay up with me when I had nightmares an' feed me tea. She would tell me stories an' tuck me in, an' hold me when I cried- sometime even call me out when I was bad. Why shan't I like her? She mo' like a mother, than anyone I ever had 'fore.
An' Samuel- well... He mo' like... well I dunno wha' he like, all I kno' is jus' that I like 'em. Why shan't I like him neither? Cause his skin? Cause he a slave? Cause his arm? None of it make no sense.
"What can I do?"
"I dunno," I say- tears sprinin' in my eyes. "I really dunno."
"I'll make you some tea."
And then it my turn to ask: "What can I do?"
"I-I..." I sigh, loudly- take a gulp of the water, then sigh 'gain. Why should I lie to a slave? Who she gonna tell anyway? "Well... No. No I'm not alrigh'."
"Oh!" She exclaim, rather surprised. She had never thought fo' a moment that I'd be rather honest. She compose her self real fast though, an' quietly ask, "Well- what can I help you with Miss?"
"I'm jus' confused is all," I say, honestly. I jus' don' kno' what to do anymo'. I don't kno' who to trust, who ta like an' who to hate. I kno' who I should- but I don't feel it anymo'. I feel like I like Samuel an' Cecile, mo' than no one white. An' the Misses now- mo' than daddy.
An' I dunno even how I feel bout my mother no mo'. I'm startin' to accept that wha' Cecile said was a lie.
"Wha' yo' confused 'bout sweetheart?" She ask. "Would tea make it better?" I sigh, fo' the third time. I wish it were that easy- tea would jus' make everythin' go back ta normal.
"Nah- it wouldn't. Don't bother," I whisper- forcin' her to scoot in real close so she can hear me.
"Well wha' yo' confused 'bout?"
"Everythin'," My voice is so quiet an' small. I feel so little. Like I child again, confinin' in Cecile. She would stay up with me when I had nightmares an' feed me tea. She would tell me stories an' tuck me in, an' hold me when I cried- sometime even call me out when I was bad. Why shan't I like her? She mo' like a mother, than anyone I ever had 'fore.
An' Samuel- well... He mo' like... well I dunno wha' he like, all I kno' is jus' that I like 'em. Why shan't I like him neither? Cause his skin? Cause he a slave? Cause his arm? None of it make no sense.
"What can I do?"
"I dunno," I say- tears sprinin' in my eyes. "I really dunno."
"I'll make you some tea."
And then it my turn to ask: "What can I do?"
