MULATTO (Iyila) (Editing)

MULATTO (Iyila)

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"The authors of the declaration of independence never intended to say all were equal in intellect, moral development or social capacity, but they did consider all men equal, equal in certain inalienable rights, among which are LIFE, LIBERTY and the PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS"

--Abraham LincoIn

PROLOGUE (Edited)

She had no destination but she knew she had to run. She knew she had to run far away - and fast. Somewhere safe enough to take her life in the most dignified manner.

She knew her death was near, but she didn't want to die at their hands. Those bastards that had made every slave's life hell. She didn't want them to stare at her naked dead body as it lay there devoid of life, or abuse it as they normally did to any slave.

She wanted dignity - even though it was an almost impossible wish for a slave - it was all she wanted, that was all she had. It was something she had carefully protected in all of her years of servitude.

But no matter how hard she tried to banish the main reason to why she was so willing to end her life here, in this lonesome wood, it kept appearing in her thoughts in echoes. It was very painful to accept the truth, more painful than being lashed, but she loved him.

And no matter how hard her enormous hatred for his race seemed to give her an excuse not to accept his heart; she still found herself loving him all the more.

And now, she was with his child. But how could she tell him? He was, after all, the genesis of her predicament; she wouldn't have been so lost in her belief of freedom, had he not encouraged it. He was her hope.

For once in all of her miserable existence, she awoke every morning not bothering about the tasteless oatmeal or the skin reaping lashes; rather, she woke believing it will all be history.

Believing that one day she would be free to make her own decisions, free from this pain, misery and fear.

But it was stupid to ever trust a White. She should have known he would turn out the same.

She shouldn't have trusted him, not for a second - not ever.

As she ran deep into the dark wood, Mr John's words kept ringing in her head -

"I would rather die than let you gain your freedom you filthy, slutty African dirt!" he hateful cursed before smacking her face, hard enough to render her dumb. And...

"Iyila," a voice desperately called behind her breaking through her thoughts. Even without turning, she knew who it was. She increased her pace as fear mercilessly gripped her.

If only she had listened to her goddamned instinct, which alerted her of another presence, his presence - but as usual, she let her feelings overtake her.

"Iyila, Iyila stop right there!" Gabriel angrily ordered. And she did. Perhaps it was because she was a slave girl, one whose life had been controlled by others. Or perhaps it was the feelings her weak heart harboured for him. Whichever it was, it was powerful enough to stop her.

At that very moment she knew her heart and body were going to disobey her. She turned and saw him running towards her, However on earth did he find me?! she thought. She remembered not having told anyone... Ahh... except - Daila. She let out a frustrated sigh as anger and disappointment quickly flooded her body with an intense urge to cry.

How could Dalia do this to me? How could she betray her kind? How could she trust a white? she thought.

"It was love and kind-heartedness that made Dalia disclose your secret," he calmly replied, as if reading her mind.

Her eyes moved to him. He was dressed in a white shirt, folded up to the elbows with dark trousers, his hair ruffled. She noticed his boots were soaked in dirt and he was panting heavily. But in spite of all that he still managed to look ravishingly handsome.

"What do you think you are doing?" he shouted angrily, as he walked towards her. She retreated a few steps backwards, fearfully.

"Running off into such dangerous woods is sheer stupidity," he scolded, and she knew he was trying hard to not get angry with her. "You are coming with me," he ordered again, sounding more like the barbarian she took him to be.

"No." she replied after a short silence, her voice quivering with the pain buried inside her.

"I won't let you take me back to that plantation!" she exclaimed bringing out a pocket knife, as her eyes shed the tears that had long been waiting to spill.