Master's Son & The Slave Girl

Chapter 11

MYA'S POV: 

Love?! 

"I think I'm in love with you Mya." 

Those were his exact words. But how? Why? We just met this morning for Pete's sake! After he told me that he thinks he loves me, James left. Whether he left because I silently stared at him afterwards, or because his father was still searching for him, I don't know. All I know is, I'm not quite sure I believe in this "love at first sight" business.

Or do I? He does make me feel like there are butterflies in my stomach. He does make me smile. He does make me feel beautiful. But most importantly, he makes me feel like I'm worth loving. Like I'm not just some slave, who's only purpose in life is to make sandwiches and pick cotton. Like I'm just a regular girl, even with skin darker than his. The realization makes me smile. A big, goofy, happy smile.

But we can't love each other, can we? I think sadly. The fact still remains that I am black, and he is white. That I am his slave, and he is my master. If we were to be found out, we'd both be hung. And that's one mighty risk that I'm not willing to take. Unsmiling, I get up and make my way back to the house. The guests are all gone, and I can hear Master's loud snoring even from the first floor.

I slowly walk into the dining room. My eyes widen. It's completely spotless. Meaning James and I were gone longer than I thought. I sigh. James, though I try my hardest not to, is all I can think about. Damn you, Mya! Damn you for being so weak! For letting yourself love a man who can never be yours! I mentally scold myself. I ungracefully plop into one of the chairs and lay my hot head onto the cool table. Finally, I admit it to myself. Love. I love him. I love James.

I groan and gently bang my head against the table. "You know, it took us a long damn time to make that table spotless, Mya. And now you've gone and gotten your forehead grease all ova' it!" Momma chuckles as she quietly sits beside me.

I'm too sad to laugh with her. Her warm hand slides up and down my back, "What's wrong, baby?" She whispers. I just sigh. She chuckles. "Well whatever it is, you know you can come to me about it. Whereva', wheneva'." She gets up and pushes the chair in.

"I love you, my dear Mya." I lift my head and smile at her. "I love you too, Momma. Sleep well." With that, she walks off down the hall, calling out one last thing before I can't see her anymore. "You betta' wipe that table before you go to bed. Otherwise, you can expect a real good beatin' from me tomorrow mornin'!" I laugh loudly, but not loudly enough to wake anyone who might still be in the house somewhere, sleeping. 

I grab a rag from one of the many closets and set off wiping the table down. After I finish, I'm still not tired. Thoughts of James are keeping me up, so I clean and clean until the sky begins to lighten ever so slightly. I slump into a chair. Now, I am exhausted, I smile happily. Getting up, I stumble out of the house and into the misty dawn. Morning dew beads at the tip of grass blades and leaves. It's so beautiful this time of day, when it's completely silent and the fresh hair envelopes you in a relaxing cocoon. Too bad I'm going to have to sleep through it. The thought makes me giggle. 

I cleaned all through the night just to rid my thoughts of-

"What's so funny?" I jump and look up into James' face. He's smiling softly, looking at me with his head tilted. I blush.

"U-uh, I-I was just on my way to b-bed." I stammer nervously. Well damn, would ya speak of the devil?