When I Return

Part I

The dishes that scatter Master's large table are, once again, numerous. I begin to pick them up when my name is called from the study. I rush to the study and curtsy to the one I must serve day and night. "My dear Amelia, you stupid little thing. You have forgotten to bring me and my guests the dessert." His voice grates against my ears and although it is smooth as silk, it constantly is directed at me and is constantly telling me of all the wrong I do. "I do apologize Master, I will bring you and your guests the dessert. Would you all like cream with your dessert?" I ask, and a man with slicked back, bleach white, thick hair responds with a voice that will soon take sandpaper's place. " My my, you must be absurd you 'stupid little thing'. We must first know what we are to eat before we decide whether we are to eat cream with it." His voice puts me in a place that I can only refer to as a place where I am smaller than an atom and am useful to only the animals that hunt me at night. His voice is demeaning and, in every way imaginable, unkind. The reference to my Master's favorite nickname for me just infuriates me more than I was before, but I simply say, "I do apologize sir, I will ask Mrs. Alderman, our cook, what the dessert will be." I curtsy to the group and take my leave. 'Hurry' is the word that runs through my head. If I can get back fast enough, I can eaves drop for a few moments. Mrs. Alderman is at the stove with a plate of something that smells just extraordinary. "The guests are inquiring what the dessert will be." I say. She replies with that odd accent of hers. "Let zem vait. Zey vill not starve! Their fat bodies vill not get any smaller, I svere it!" I say, "They just wanted to know if they would want cream with it."
"Vell, tell them that it is Apple strudel."
"Yes ma'am."
I then leave and kneel in from of the oak door that separates the hall from the study. Muffled voices seep through the door and I can barely make out what is being said. Barely. Master's voice is what I first hear, "I think that old Mickey should keep his mouth shut, he knows much too much." Then the man with the slick hair that spoke to me earlier speaks. "Let's just end him, if you know what I mean." A voice I have never heard before speaks now. "That slave is going to get in our way, I think you're right Slim, he will have to be rid of before he starts talking. Slim speaks again. "If we had Mickey telling every slave that they are free, then we would lose our farm, and that is not goin' to happen in my land." The man that I do not know's voice comes through now. "What are you gonna do 'bout it Slim?"
"Well, my dear Smalls, I am going to get rid of Mickey and keep the slaves right where they belong." I then knock on the door, signaling that I have arrived, and their conversation stops immediately. "My dear Amelia, how long have you been there?" Says Master. I reply, "I just arrived here, Mrs. Alderman had refused to tell me anything, I practically had to pry it out of her." "Well you stupid girl, what is it?" This is Slim, who I am beginning to greatly dislike. I say, "Apple strudel." He nods and they all request cream with their dessert, and after the arrival of the dessert and cream, they all eat and leave. Master tells me to retire to the slave quarters and I do about as fast as possible, excited for the chance to talk the day's events over with my closest friend, Geneva. Once I reach the quarters, I see Geneva crying. "Geneva, are you ok, what happened?" She looks up and begins the sentence that will forever haunt me. "They killed Mickey, they killed him under charges of treason and slothful behavior."
In case you don't know, Mickey was the oldest slave on the entire plantation. He knows everyone and wouldn't hurt a fly, unless that fly was one of the slave watchers, then he would have already hurt countless and killed three just in this plantation. The only reason they ever keep him around is because of his ability to do his job better than anyone. He worked with metals and could make anything from anything. When I fell and broke my left arm when I was five, he made me a cast using metal strips and old cloth. The cast held up all of the way until my arm had healed, my arm had been fine but it was decided that my bones were too brittle for farm work, so I worked inside as a maid. He was a great man, but he must have known much too much. I then remember what Slim had said about getting rid of Mickey because he knew about us slaves supposing to be free.
A hate begins to burn in my chest that I push down inside of me, I try not to scream as the reality hits me. We are supposed to be free, Mickey knew about this and must of threatened to use his knowledge to make us slaves riot, so they killed him. Killed him! I will scream on the rooftops this new knowledge of mine, I will make it heard by even the people miles and miles away, everyone will know, and I will be free. But I know what I must first do, "Geneva, I have something to tell you."
That night I sleep barely enough to energize myself to move at all in the morning. When I do wake up, I realize that something is wrong. A Watcher stands over me and forces me to stand up. He then drags me outside where the whole plantation watches me being dragged by the brute of a man. He speaks. "You see what happens when you rebel against us!" He gestures to my, then to another body being dragged from a hut. Geneva! The man that dragged Geneva out of the house pulls out his gun, raises it to her head, and pulls the trigger. A shot sounds and her body goes limp. I scream and try to go to her, but I am being held back by my hairs as the Watcher holding me back starts talking again. "You see this girl here?" He picks me up. "She tried to rebel, but we caught her because we are smarter than you, we are better than you, and we will always beat you at whatever you do!" Then I am dragged to the Big House, out of sight from my fellow slaves and the only friend I have ever had. Geneva and I were sold from the same auction away from our parents to this place, and we just became so very close. Now she is dead, and I know that, somehow, this is all my fault. My tears are falling so much that I cannot see and I can barely breathe. Once we reach the Big House, I am thrown through the door onto the old carpet that covers the living room. Master speaks. "A Watcher saw you tell your little friend about old Mickey and our little secret. I know that I should kill you for lying to me and rebelling against my command, but I have grown fond of ya'. I will not have you killed or kill you myself. Instead, you will be locked in the cellar until you starve to death, good-bye you stupid little thing." And with that, I was dragged to the cellar and locked up.

I will not tell you the details of what it is like to starve, or about how difficult it is to live when you have no wish to. I will, however, tell you of the visits from a slave boy by the name of André would come and give me much needed food. At first I refused it because of my want to die, but after time I gave in to the pain in my stomach.
One fateful day, André brought a set of keys and said that we were going to finally escape this 'hell'. I had told him, by then, of the plot against Mickey and we both equally hated Smalls, Master, and, especially, Slim who has, in my eyes, presented himself to be the very image of the devil.
"André, this is one of the stupidest things, if we get caught we will die, like Geneva." He says nothing and soon my chains have been removed. We then sneak through the thick door that leads to the washing room, then we exit out into the fresh air.
I will tell you without hesitation that after being locked in a basement for seven months, fresh air is better than the most tasteful food and worth more to you than gold. I stand for a second and just inhale and exhale for a while. André comes up behind me and nudges me forward, I walk forward and realize how full the sensation of walking is. The reason I use the word 'full' is because of all the things it is full of, adrenaline, pins and needles, and exhilaration. This is the only way I can describe how it is to walk after seven months of not being able to. A whistle sounds and I see a Watcher looking at us, he pulls out his whip and mumbles something about a raise. I know that running will only make things worse so I get ready to fight. Just then a thin woman comes up behind him and hits him so hard in the head with a large washing tub that the Watcher falls to the floor, unconscious. "Thank you!" I exclaim, she nods her head and gestures to a gait that leads to free land. The gait is only a about two hundred yards from us. I know that someone will be whipped or maybe killed because of my escape. I try to get the woman to come, but she refuses. I then notice the burn marks around her mouth, she has been this stupid before and suffered for it. She probably lost someone close to her like I lost Geneva. I wave and André and I leave the place where we have been imprisoned.

Epilogue
A year has passed since André and I left the plantation. We found that we were entitled to freedom because a war for our freedom that we had not heard of, this was probably on purpose. We live together and are engaged. I lay in bed, thinking about a conversation I have recently had with André. I said, "After everything, we just left those poor slaves there to be abused as we were."
He said, "Yes, I have recently been thinking the same thing, but what could we have done?"
" I do not know, maybe we could tell authorities."
"Amelia, maybe we are looking at this wrong. Maybe it is not what we could have done but what we can do."
That sentence keep running through my head, maybe I can do something for them, maybe I can do more than that. I can do something for myself by helping them, I can get the revenge that I have prayed for. Then a new word runs through my head. Revenge. My mind now mind relaxes, I know what I am going to do. I close my eyes and drift into one of the best sleeps I have ever slept.