Slave Sisters

(17) Slave Sisters

10th November, 1804

“Are you . . . are you okay?” I turned around to see Jane, who had concern plastered over her face.

Slowly, I moved my head up and down. “I’m fine, fank yer,” I told her, trying to delicately smile – although, this was incorrect.

It had only been three days since the news, and already I could feel my mood drop along with my energy. In the mornings it was even more of a pain to get up to do work, and in the night I would retire to bed with the feeling of absolute exhaustion and numbness. It felt as if my body was not connected to my mind and that I could not control how tired I was.

“Okay, good; I was just worried,” she asked, still looking quite wary. In order to try and reassure her I brightly increased my smile, despite the high effort it took – until I sneezed. “Oh, bless you.”

Stepping away from the sink, I covered my nose with a hand. “F-fanks,” I said again, more shakily this time. Again I sneezed, and this was followed by a cough.

“I think that you may have come down with a cold,” Jane admitted, looking sure. I looked at her, puzzled.

“What’s a cold?” I asked, not convinced. She explained it to me briefly, and I nodded in understanding.

I had a feeling that Jane was far too intelligent for her age.

“Maybe I do,” I agreed. “Wha’ shoul’ I do to get rid of it?”

Jane placed a finger to the tip of her chin. “I do not really know . . .”

“Oh,” I said, a little surprised. “Well, dat’s okay.” I reached for some tissue, using it to clean my nose with, as well as my eyes – they had become teary. Unexpectedly, a large tear rolled down my cheek.

She stared at me, “Why did you not come to the lesson last night?” With her mentioning this I suddenly remembered.

“I didn’t feel good,” I explained, coughing another time when an itch came to my throat. I rubbed at the skin, attempting to soothe the irritating feeling. “I wanted to . . . I forgo’.”

“Do you think that we should put them on hold?” she asked, curious.

“W-wha’? Why?” I asked, now also curious. Had Jane become tired of me already?

So far I had been enjoying my lessons with her. I had learnt so much in such little time – things that I thought that I would never come across in my life. To top it off, I found them entertaining and a great opportunity to find the chance to spend time with little Jane.

She politely shrugged, and started to explain her reasons. Of how she thought I was not well enough at the moment; how it would be trickier for me to reach her with both Judith and Virginia now staying in the house; how far-away and distant I had acting lately.

Understanding, I said that yes, we should stop the sessions for now. I wiped at my teary eyes again, yet still I felt another tear travel down my face.

15th November, 1804

“Ugh – get your dirty self away from me, slave!” Virginia demanded, flapping her fan around frantically. She directly flapped it at me to try and shoo me away, as if I were an insect.

Virginia had most certainly settled down into the Wicker house, more comfortably than Judith had; just thinking about Judith made my body shudder. Yet regardless: Virginia treated me the same as Mrs Wicker did – as her slave. Regretting my words I inwardly shook my head, angry.