She spun around on her broken toes, overjoyed to say she was free. She laughed for the first time in years, and tears fell from her eyes. But this time, they were tears of joy. Tears of relief.
She took the sharp rock she had carried with her since the start of the journey and made her way to the nearest tree. She cut out a visible piece of the bark and held it tightly in her hand. Smiling all the way, she made her way across the river again and back to her friends and family. She displayed the piece of bark layer across her palm.
"I did it."
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As I mentioned before, I lived on the verge of insanity for many days. To keep myself from falling apart completely, I spent my time in the servants' quarters. Most people in Tennessee have slaves, but we have no use for them. Our territory is small, and we can take care of ourselves. Our family hired the Miles family in 1793, when we first settled onto this property. They were granted their freedom by their masters, and we built them a house behind ours. We call them our "indentured servants," so no one would suspect they were free and take them away. They've been our companions and friends ever since then.
Maybe you've noticed that I haven't talked about any of my friends. That's because Harper Miles is the only friend I need. And that's who I went to see. That's who kept me sane.
However, there was that one moment that set off everything. It changed my life. It was something big. Bigger than the rose. Bigger than the blood. Bigger than the well. It was everything.
I remember the day clearly. It was March 12th, 1863. A month and a half after Evian and my father left. Their little Evy had been a fighter, just like I promised. The day was stormy, the dirt roads covered in warm rain, just the way I like it.
I remember what I was wearing, as well. My lucky colors: a pale orange skirt with a fair blue blouse, covered by a faded coral shawl. I had decided to wear flats instead of heels, and I know now that I made the right choice. My hair was curled and twisted into a knot at the back of my head, with strands falling around my brown eyes.
You must be wondering why, or how I remembered these details. Well, I'll tell you. It's because that day will forever be marked in my mind as the day it all changed.
A/N: part two is on the way, peeps!!! And Oakley, I hope you like that Harper character;). More to come of her in The Revelation: Part 2!!!
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Blood Rose
Historical FictionOnce upon a time, a story was written about a flower. But it was not just any flower. It was a rose. After this story, many others followed, and each was unique. However, every story shared two common denominators: the red rose, and a young girl. So...