When I awake, there are still tears in my eye. I blink 'em away, rubbin' the soft skin beneath my bottom lashes. I don't see myself in no mirror, but I know I got real big puffiness where my fingers make contact. Every time daddy comes- they there. The sun ain't up yet but I can't go back to sleep- cause I don't got no choice on what I dream. I try not to think of memories, gettin' dressed and combin' out my hair like I made of stone. But I ain't and I can't pretend that I okay no more.
I go down stairs- real quiet, after standin' outside Mary's door for what seemed like hours. I wanted to go in- like a daughter would to a mother and try to sleep right beside her. But I already awake. And, in all honest, Mary ain't my mother. She would wanna know why I all upset and then she wouldn't believe me. And even if I thought she would- believe that is- I wouldn't say nothin'. I dunno why, but I feel like it all my fault and Mary'd hate me even more.
Daddy says not to tell cause she'd be real jealous- but I think it more than that. I dunno if she'd even want daddy in 'er bed, at all, cause Mary can be real smart sometimes. And cause she chose Miss. Lizabeth like I chose daddy then she'd know that daddy vistin' her at night ain't no good. I think she'd feel that I like daddy in my bed, that I as low as the lowest- not even a Southern girl at all. She'd think of me as one of them white trash girls, always flippin' up their dresses and skirts.
So I don't go see Mary and instead I walk down stairs, ignorin' the growls in my stomach. Breakfast won't be near ready. not 'till the Mistress get up to wake all them house slaves.
I choose the parlor, sittin' in one of them big chairs and starin' up at the celin'. Next door daddy got a library where he sit and read sometime. He don't like us girls, 'specially Mary goin' in there, but I do it anyway. Daddy won't come down fo' a while, and even if he does he won't care real bad. After las' night, daddy let me do anythin' fo' about a week. I would like it- if it didn't bring so many memories.
I carry an Ausetn book back to the parlor, openin' it up to the first page and spendin' a real good time readin' what it says. I ain't so good at readin' words when they ain't from the Holy Book. But when I got nothin' else to do and I wanna get thoughts from my head- I do try.
Escapin' into another world can be real nice sometime- even if it does take a real lon' time fo' me to get whats happenin'. I discover that Mr. Darcy a real great man when the Mistress comes down, a deep- set frown on her lips. It don't take her too lon' to start barkin' orders at me. And though in my head I refuse her, I do every word she asks.
I go down stairs- real quiet, after standin' outside Mary's door for what seemed like hours. I wanted to go in- like a daughter would to a mother and try to sleep right beside her. But I already awake. And, in all honest, Mary ain't my mother. She would wanna know why I all upset and then she wouldn't believe me. And even if I thought she would- believe that is- I wouldn't say nothin'. I dunno why, but I feel like it all my fault and Mary'd hate me even more.
Daddy says not to tell cause she'd be real jealous- but I think it more than that. I dunno if she'd even want daddy in 'er bed, at all, cause Mary can be real smart sometimes. And cause she chose Miss. Lizabeth like I chose daddy then she'd know that daddy vistin' her at night ain't no good. I think she'd feel that I like daddy in my bed, that I as low as the lowest- not even a Southern girl at all. She'd think of me as one of them white trash girls, always flippin' up their dresses and skirts.
So I don't go see Mary and instead I walk down stairs, ignorin' the growls in my stomach. Breakfast won't be near ready. not 'till the Mistress get up to wake all them house slaves.
I choose the parlor, sittin' in one of them big chairs and starin' up at the celin'. Next door daddy got a library where he sit and read sometime. He don't like us girls, 'specially Mary goin' in there, but I do it anyway. Daddy won't come down fo' a while, and even if he does he won't care real bad. After las' night, daddy let me do anythin' fo' about a week. I would like it- if it didn't bring so many memories.
I carry an Ausetn book back to the parlor, openin' it up to the first page and spendin' a real good time readin' what it says. I ain't so good at readin' words when they ain't from the Holy Book. But when I got nothin' else to do and I wanna get thoughts from my head- I do try.
Escapin' into another world can be real nice sometime- even if it does take a real lon' time fo' me to get whats happenin'. I discover that Mr. Darcy a real great man when the Mistress comes down, a deep- set frown on her lips. It don't take her too lon' to start barkin' orders at me. And though in my head I refuse her, I do every word she asks.
