Autobiography of an abolitionist Part I

That fateful night

My name is Catherine Abernathy,but most people just call me Cat. I was 13 when I started to actually notice that I didn't have a father. I questioned my mother about it and she told me that the man who whips us, the so called "owner" was my dad. She told me not to mention it or she and I would be in big trouble. I asked her what kind of trouble and she said he would whip us until we couldn't get up.
I didn't think a few scratches would hurt because I was used to being whipped every day. But mother said that we would die. Then I got bold and said again that a few scratches wouldn't hurt and that he would probably only whip us a few times. But mother insisted that we would die. Sadly the owner's son (my half brother), overheard our conversation and ran to the owner as soon as mother had said that the conversation was over.
The owner came to our bunker and told us to come with him. He told mother to hold still and he whipped her over and over again. Finally she just collapsed and didn't get up. The whole time she was being tortured the owner's son was holding me still, and at the end he let me fall to the ground where I curled up into a ball and sobbed. My mother was dead and I was alone with murderers.