Slavery is one of the hardest jobs, and being born into a family that's been in it forever is like destiny. The first 5 years of it is a peace of cake. Working around the house cleaning, and making the food for the family. Growing up, and watching the kids of our owners have all the cool toys, and stuff. It was like a kid looking into the window of a candy store. When you know you can't get anything. Since I'm a girl I didn't do much when I was little the girls don't do much of anything until your about 12. Now you start working at about 7. When they told us that I promised myself I would never have kids until I was out of this place. Jenna one of my best friends died at age 14 with the measles. Our owner didn't even care he just left her body lying there on the ground. For the fist 2 months every time I passed by her body I cried for an hour. Then the pain of losing her just soddenly disappeared. I would pass by her bones and I would pause and look and keep going on. Finely her mom got tired of looking at them and barred them. Some of the smaller kids made a clay grave stone and engraved her name in it. The reason we did that was for a gift to her family. Because they give back to the community a lot. Any time anyone didn't get supper they will split theirs with them, and the worst thing is Jenna was just as sweet.
