"She ain't in there."
Samuel steps out from this shack, his hand blockin' the doorway. He's got a smile on his face, and he stands real casual, makin' my heart speed up in my chest. I surpress the urge to cover it with my hand, knowin' that there ain't no way he can see my chest rise and fall.
"You're lyin'," I say, knowin' that my statement is true. Cecile ain't nowhere else- she got nowhere else to be.
"No."
He says no more than that, not even lookin' at me when he says it. He's still leanin' on the door frame, careful not to put too much pressure on it. The wood could cave in any second and he knows it.
"Where is she then?"
He doesn't respond, lookin' up at the sun that's now higher in the sky. He says somethin' beneath his breath but I don't hear 'em. I grow increasingly frustrated, tappin' my foot on the ground and waitin'.
"Where is she?" I repeat, this time anger in my voice. I shouldn't be wastin' no time lurin' an answer from no slave. They supposed to jus' give it to me.
"I dunno."
"Liar."
He shrugs, turnin' his gaze back to me. I squirm, wishin' that he'd quit lyin', tell me and then let me leave. Or jus' not look at me.
"I jus' know she ain't here."
"Let me in then."
He shakes his head, his eyes trailin' down my body. It makes me glad, for one irrational second, that the Mistress made me pull myself together. But then I shake that thought outta my head, cause he a slave and he ain't tellin' me what I need to hear. And thinkin' of the Mistress makes me think of her bein' hungry. And the time. And las' night. I ain't in no mood fo' some stubborn slave.
"Either let me in, tell me where she is or make breakfast yourself."
He sighs, shakin' his head again. His arms cross over his chest, muscles real big. I catch a glipse of his lousy hand before he covers it with his right arm, and I realize that even with the handy cap he's got, I ain't gonna be able to use force.
"Do you want me to call-" I almos' say daddy, but even jus' sayin' or thinkin' his name gives me chills. There ain't no way I'd let him hurt Samuel, not even if it was a tenth of the way he hurt me. "Do you want me to get Mista Johnston?"
Samuel steps out from this shack, his hand blockin' the doorway. He's got a smile on his face, and he stands real casual, makin' my heart speed up in my chest. I surpress the urge to cover it with my hand, knowin' that there ain't no way he can see my chest rise and fall.
"You're lyin'," I say, knowin' that my statement is true. Cecile ain't nowhere else- she got nowhere else to be.
"No."
He says no more than that, not even lookin' at me when he says it. He's still leanin' on the door frame, careful not to put too much pressure on it. The wood could cave in any second and he knows it.
"Where is she then?"
He doesn't respond, lookin' up at the sun that's now higher in the sky. He says somethin' beneath his breath but I don't hear 'em. I grow increasingly frustrated, tappin' my foot on the ground and waitin'.
"Where is she?" I repeat, this time anger in my voice. I shouldn't be wastin' no time lurin' an answer from no slave. They supposed to jus' give it to me.
"I dunno."
"Liar."
He shrugs, turnin' his gaze back to me. I squirm, wishin' that he'd quit lyin', tell me and then let me leave. Or jus' not look at me.
"I jus' know she ain't here."
"Let me in then."
He shakes his head, his eyes trailin' down my body. It makes me glad, for one irrational second, that the Mistress made me pull myself together. But then I shake that thought outta my head, cause he a slave and he ain't tellin' me what I need to hear. And thinkin' of the Mistress makes me think of her bein' hungry. And the time. And las' night. I ain't in no mood fo' some stubborn slave.
"Either let me in, tell me where she is or make breakfast yourself."
He sighs, shakin' his head again. His arms cross over his chest, muscles real big. I catch a glipse of his lousy hand before he covers it with his right arm, and I realize that even with the handy cap he's got, I ain't gonna be able to use force.
"Do you want me to call-" I almos' say daddy, but even jus' sayin' or thinkin' his name gives me chills. There ain't no way I'd let him hurt Samuel, not even if it was a tenth of the way he hurt me. "Do you want me to get Mista Johnston?"
