Life of Me, the Indian Slave Girl

 Time and place- unknown

It was gone-everything my parents had worked for. Their money was stolen, they were dead, and I was now classified as a colored girl. And I was waiting to be picked in a fair. Waiting to be picked as a servant for someone else.

            I had gone to a good school, one that I would miss greatly. It had taught me well, and I was 3 years ahead, with many friends. I hoped my owner would be someone who would let me return, even though I knew my chances on it were very low. But, alas, a girl could hope, could she not?

            After waiting three days, a lady came. She had a kind face (white, of course) and beautiful hazel eyes. You could see the beauty she must have been when she was younger. It was there, just hidden behind her mask of age.

            I saw her talking to the slave keeper, and that told me she was here for a reason. I prayed she would pick me. She walked past me, though, and looked at others. Finally, she glanced at me. I looked up at her curiously, hoping she would pick me. I knew she wouldn’t though, because she wouldn’t like a girl like me. I was sassy, and could get quite angry if someone provoked me. I could say things I didn’t mean, and things tended to get out of my hands.

She stopped in front of me and inspected me. She bent down and asked, “What’s your name, hon?” I answered, “Priya, ma’am, Priya Singh.” She turned to the slave keeper and asked, “How’s she?”

“Well, at times she is sweet, but when she gets in a rage, it’s quite a sight. Very intelligent. Would you like to speak to her?”

“Yes, I would,” the kind lady answered before turning to me.

“Tell me about yourself, hon.” She told me. So did. I told her how my parents had been killed, my friends weren’t allowed to see me, and how I was banned from school unless my owner let me go. I told her how I had hoped for a kind owner. I told her of my grades, and my beloved teachers who were always listening to me. And she listened. And in the end, she told me that she chose me. But, she warned me. About some alternate part of her that would be angry, that would hurt me without knowing. She told me this was the only price I had to pay, and if I took it, she would let me go to school. I would have to tutor her son as well. So I accepted, packed my clothes, and left with her, to my new home.

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