Cold Blooded

15. 👑

I know it's not by the schedule, but I'm bored...so this gone be a long chapter.
Nobody pov

Flashback:

"Her. For my sons 16 birthday." The white man said boldly wiping the sweat off his face with a rag. He was tall, has a long black coat with a white fancy laced shirt, along with black pants and black buckled leather boots. He picked off the lint form his sleeve, and fixed his shirt, then folding his hands.

The young black girl who's the age of 15 had sudden tears falling down her face. She looked back at a boy about her age who was also being sold, and mouthed "I love you" in her African language as her arm was grabbed, and she was put on a wagon while the man payed for her. The young girl looked down, with the shackles on her legs and hands were taken off. She rubbed her irritated wrists and ankles, and put her knees to her neck, and hugged herself beginning to sob.

"Brian, begin." The man said to the male slave as he hoisted the reigns, with the horses beginning to walk down the path.

Hours went by, and the young girl looked up. Having a small nose, dark skin, light brown eyes, thick big hair in a large Afro. She was short, skinny, and delicate for her not have eaten in days, and weeks went by of her eating little of her journey of her, and many more forced out of Africa by whites, and to be here being sold. Hundreds died along the way.

The man looked back at her in disgust.

"Thank heavens we are almost there." The man said wiping dust off his expensive black boots.

The girl had more tears falling down her face, of the thought of her mother and father. Her village being attacked, and her parents killed right in front of her along with her little brother, who was so generous, wouldn't even hurt a fly. Many. Many people were killed.

The girl wished she had been one of them that were killed. She thought about her little brother, wishing to be holding him in her arms, but then again, she's happy he's dead, so he wouldn't have to go through the what she has been going through. She thought about her mother when she comforts her when she cries, and her father bold, and funny.

She began sobbing.

"Shut that crap up." The white man spat causing for the young girl to go silent, and suck up her tears. They then arrived at a large nice, mansion. Everything seemed perfect.

The girl got off the wagon, and the man ordered her to follow him inside the house.

"Michael!" He called with his voice roaring throughout the large house.

The girl looked around, never seeing a house so large, or nice. Beautiful paintings, carpets, and cart aims on the fairly tall Windows bringing bright sunlight throughout the house.

A boy came downstairs, blond curly hair, blue eyes. "Huh father?"

The man put his hand on his sons shoulder and smirked. "Happy 16th. Could do anything you desire with her."

His eyes widened, and he smiled showing his dimples. "A-anything?"

"What Bowles says, Bowles means." The man proudly said walking away with his head high.

The boy went up to her. "I will call you,......Maggie."

She raised an eyebrow, not understanding his English.