Isabelle Derby's Journal (Copper Sun Fiction)

Disclaimer: I didn't make any money from this! Don't sue me!! All characters and stuff belong to Sharon Draper.

A/N: Okay, this started out as an English project. We had some choices of what project we wanted to do. I chose to write a 2+ page report on what Isabelle Derby, a minor character in the novel Copper Sun by Sharon Draper, would be reactting to the fact that her freedom was taken, too. Her journal, basically. It got a little out of hand and this popped up. It didn't necessarily meet up to the standards to get an A, but I didn't want to delete it, I also didn't want it to just sit and float around on my computer for ages. So, that adventure of thoughts brings us here! :]

I hope you guys like it. It probably won't make sense if you haven't read it, but enjoy anyway.

(DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU WANT TO READ COPPER SUN, MAJOR SPOILER ALERT!! SPOILER ALERT!!)

Ps.- If you do end up reading Copper Sun, give it until she gets auctioned off to quit reading it. It's kind of depressing at first, but after that, it gets to be more...not happy, but not depressing either.

And the story begins:

Entry 1:

I don't know quite how to start this. I hope it gets easier to write in this, you, it- a-this- journal.

I would scratch out that top sentence, but I don't want the first page of my journal to have a huge scribble at the top of the page. So, instead, I'll just start over. Hopefully, this is a better impression:

Hello, my name is Isabelle. I just recently got married to this horrid man, Percival Derby of Derbyshire Farms. I am a woman. I know how to read and write. And, I am in love with my slave, Noah (He never told me his African name. But, I'd very much like to know.).

And if anyone finds you, Noah and I would, most likely, be killed.

Welcome to my life.

Entry 2:  

It's me again. (Of course)

I wanted to tell you about Noah.

Noah was a slave brought from Africa about twelve years ago. My father bought him for me to be my own little slave boy. He'd pick up after me, play games with me, get me food, drinks, anything I wanted he would give to me. This is kind of the point of slavery. But, to my five-year-old mind, he was just the kind of friend I wanted in my life. I didn't really make him pick up after me; I was a very independent even at that age. I would strut around the house the first couple of days he was there just because I knew where everything was and he didn't. I felt very empowered in this women-are-below-men world. I knew more than a boy did, and that made me smile.

In no time Noah learned how the house operated, he knew how to get through the maze of hallways, and he even learned some words. He always used to scream whenever my father would get mad because I spilled something, or knocked something over. I just had to be a clumsy independent. I actually thought it was slightly funny because it was my fault, but I never got blamed. I regret those thoughts every day.

Noah and I grew very close through our years stuck together as slave and master. I no longer blamed him for my clumsiness, I took the blame. It made me feel kind of strong since I could take that small burden off of his scarred back. But, it also made me so scared I would feel like throwing up. I felt things I shouldn't for a slave. I felt love and compassion although all we ever did was hug or hold hands behind closed and locked doors. I felt like I needed him to stay around. He was all I really had and I would do anything to keep him, even if it meant a slap across the face or a booming yelling voice piecing my ear drums. I would do it for him. I was so afraid of those feelings. I fought them tooth and nail. Some days, I'd let my father beat or yell at him, but I could never cease the boiling of my blood as I watched. Afterwards, I would always run up to him with tears in my eyes, begging for forgiveness, telling him I'd never let my father do that to him again, telling him anything he needed to get him to stay with me. 

However, one day that wasn't enough. I was eighteen. It was the day my father announced that I would be married to Percival Derby, a man much older than my senior who I sometimes talked to at special events. I never had any romantic interest in him. My mind was on someone else.

When my father announced it Noah just went crazy and did something that would make any deceased slave roll over in their grave: he yelled at his master. Before I knew what was happening Noah was on all fours, like an animal, it disgusted me to no end, I never wanted him to be on his hands and knees in front of another person again. My father was hovering over him with a whip firmly grasped in his hand, he drew his arm back, and fiercely brought the lash down where it landed with a sharp snapping noise that made my blood run cold. He screamed at the same time I did, it was like I felt the sting of the whip cut into my back as well. I ran foreword and beat at my father's relentless, cynical arm. I scream, begged, yelled, and cursed at him to stop. I needed him to stop. My father was yelling at the slaves to grab me, but they stayed a safe distance away from my flailing arms. My father stopped briefly to push me away, and I found this as my opportunity to protect Noah. I ducked under his arm and scrambled to Noah and gently laid across his bloody, ripped up back. I was protecting him.

"Isabelle!" My father screamed in a deep, scandalized voice. A collective shocked gasped traveled through the room before it was completely quiet. Noah grunted beneath me and I gently shushed him before I turned back up to my father. His eyes where wide but fiery until they narrowed and his said in a hushed and deadly voice I would never forget, "Protect a slave, die with a slave." He raised his arm with the bloody whip in hand. Gasps and squeaks echoed in the room, but no one dared to challenge the man of the house.

I closed my eyes and turned to bury my face into Noah's scarlet stained neck. "I'm sorry," I whispered so only he could hear, "I love you." I braced myself for the real pain. But, it never came. I peeked up through my hair and saw my mother with her hand on my father's raised hand.

"Enough," she said quietly, "I will not let you beat my child when she is so willing to protect another's life." (I never told you, but my mother taught me how to read and write secretly. I loved her.)

My father shook his head as if trying remember what was happening. I will never forget the power a woman has over a man who loves her.

He looked down at me and back to my mother. He then coiled up the whip and tossed it to the nearest slave, who flinched but grabbed it. He looked down in disgust at us before moving to leave the room with my mother's hand in his. "Clean up this mess. Vinegar should take the stain out. Tend to his wounds." He looked directly in my eyes when he said: "Take him with you to live at Derbyshire Farms." before he left.

All the slaves and I sighed as one body before we all set off to work. I bent down lower and looked Noah in the eyes. They were still open, barely. I ran my thumb across his cheek and whispered, "It's okay. He's gone. We're okay. Close your eyes. Sleep."  His eyes immediately slipped shut and he passed out.

I stood up and looked around at the shocked faces of the slaves that stared back at me. I blushed and looked away. "I need help moving him..." I trailed off. And just on cue a big, burly slave came forward, gave me a hesitant smile (I returned it), and bent to pick Noah up. Just as he was going out the back door to go to the slave barracks I added, "To my room, please." He turned and looked taken back before he made his way up the stairs to my room.  "Can someone help him, please." I looked at the remaining female slaves and one dashed upstairs.

I looked down at the ruby stain in the carpet and covered my mouth to prevent the bile from running out my mouth. "Vinegar." I muttered to myself. I turned back around. I was so helpless, it made me angry. I am independent. But, I couldn't muster up anything to motivate me. All I wanted to do was be with Noah and make sure he was okay. A tall motherly looking slave came up to me and told me they would take care of it and to go upstairs and help with Noah. I couldn't even protest. All I could do was to hug her, and I did. When I released her from my grasp she blinked at me a couple of times. I blushed and quickly hurried off to get upstairs.

When Noah finally woke up I was right there with him alone. He told me he loved me and gave me my first kiss that day. I have never been as happy as I was in his arms. I will never forget it.

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A/N: That's as far as I got before I realized that it didn't really fit the assinment criteria.

Thanks for reading!!!!!!!

Comment you thoughts please!!!!!!