Enslavement | Teen Ink

Enslavement

March 9, 2014
By Aleahcim BRONZE, Tracy, California
Aleahcim BRONZE, Tracy, California
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Every time you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing. " -Mother Teresa


“Where did you come from Sasha?” said the little white girl to her slave, “Why are you here? Don't you have a family like mommy, daddy, and me?”

“I did have a family Missy, but that was a very long time ago,” Sasha said as she tucked Missy into bed.

“Tell me the story of how you got here? What happened?”

“Okay child, but promise me you will go to sleep.”

“Okay, I promise,” the young girl said as she snuggled into the covers.

Sasha began to remember, “It began a long time ago, when I was very young, I was twice your age. I was with my mother the day I was taken. My mother was the wife of the servant of the chief. We were gathering fruits, nuts, and roots for our dinner that evening. I could not stop daydreaming about the chief's son. He was tall, muscular, and extremely handsome. His eyes glittered in the light as he walked through the village; his face was calm and thoughtful, but careful not to show much of his thought. He was wonderful with children, he could make any child laugh and he knew just how to handle them. His name was Miracasno Chiefson. Well, as we were gathering his named slipped through my lips with a sigh, unfortunately my mother heard me.

She said, 'You will never be with him Sashazquina, you are the daughter of a servant. The prince will only marry a chief's daughter so get back to picking berries; your father will be home soon and he will beat us if the food is not prepared when he arrives.'

So we hurriedly picked what we needed then headed home and began to prepare our meal. The meal was ready and Father still was not home so we waited, and waited, and waited. At last Father had come, but why was he running? Who was that who tackled him, wait, why are we being taken?

'Father, what is going on? Father!' I cried.

All he replied was, 'Hush Sashazquina! Hush!' Ou entire tribe was taken aboard a great vessel, much larger than our little floaters. It looked almost like a great beast with horns and white, woven hair to catch the wind. We were shoved into the belly of it and were forced into that dark chasm with no food, and no water. There were no outhouses anywhere (like we use today). We all drifted into the sea on the great beast of wood and metal. We were all sick, tired, hungry, and wet from the small leak.

When we were most of the way through our voyage it seemed endless. We all thought we were going to die and half of us did. Many thought these men that looked like us with white skin where evil spirits that were giving us punishment. Our priest cried out to the gods to save us, but nothing happened. We waited many moons, some of us were blessed and were taken up on the deck to breathe the air and see the sun, moon and stars.

We eventually got there and were taken to the auctions block. We were sold to many fine gentlemen and women who were there, but no family stayed together. That is when you father, Master Duncan, bought me. He had a kind face and cared for me all the way home. He gave me everything I needed and helped me to learn your language Missy. Now I take care of you and your father to repay his kindness of buying me providing for me. Now I am living happily with you and will forevermore.”

“Was that all?” inquired Missy, “I have overheard many other's and they seemed much more exciting.”

“That is all,” lied Sasha, “now you promised me you would go to sleep.”

“Okay, I guess,” said Missy sadly, “Good night. See you in the morning. Thank you for the story.”

“Your welcome child,” said Sasha as she dimmed the lights and left the room. But as she left a tear ran down her face as she remembered all the wretchedness that voyage brought. She could picture each and every day as if it were yesterday. The death of her father before her bery eyes, and the abuse of her mother by the sailors were some of the many memories she had of that journey through hell. But those are all the things that she could not tell Missy Duncan, things one should not tell a child of eight years. And the one thing she could not tell the young girl was the savage grin Master Duncan had as he bought her from the slave traders, the monstrous look on his face as he took her home, and the treatment he has given her since. She is enslaved, and cannot break free of this bondage her heart is in; she is trapped in the cage of grief, fear, abuse, and anger.



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