Beyond The Barriers
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- Parts 18
I bet many of you are unaware to the fact that in the 21st century slaves still exist. It isn't as common as it was back in the days but as you can see I am living proof of the oppression faced by my fellow black brothers and sisters. Just kidding! It isn't that bad; it is not canes, whips but is pretty boring I am just confined to looking and cleaning up after the snobbish, higher class.
Waiting hand and foot on a bunch of upper class citizens, who are so far up their asses, they forget their manners at the door step. I envy them sometimes because they have the perfect life. Married. Money. Children. The perfect life. Or so I thought?
***
All Chyna's life has been about is pleasing others or waiting hand on foot for others. But when Xavier enters her life that all changes all she starts to pick away at the perfect image of a family and uncovers some upsetting home truths of her own.
Follow Chyna in what we call a mess, but what is known to her as her life.
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When a beautiful African girl just starting her adulthood is kidnapped from her country and sold off to the Mafia, her life does a full 360. Will she be able to cope? ############### *She quickly gets on her knees and bows in front of me. "What are you atoning for?" I ask "I b-broke your cologne. I didn't mean to. I s-swear, it was a mistake. I was wiping the counter and I didn't see it, all I saw was the bottle broken on the floor and the carpet wet." She explains panicky. "And?" I ask trying not to sound amused. The sight in front of me is pleasing. The things I do to women on thier knees "I accept whatever punishment the Don gives" she says*
Maybe
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The Woman Who Blasphemed
The drip, drip brought back the memory of those screams. She could smell the crimson from that day, or was it crimson, salt, left behind by the blood and tears of some other prisoner. Were they abused? She wondered. How were her children. She thought of them a dozen times a day, she asked the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost to keep them safe. Jamil she had long ago realized would be spared his father's beatings. That day only brought it to her conscious. She had always known. But she saw it that day. Her beautiful daughter Maryam, that was who she was more worried about. Drip, drip. Splat. Splat. The water smelled bad. Sour, of shit. It tasted even worse. She had been forced to drink it, they had starved her, and deprived her of water for a few days. Was it days? She didn't know. There was no night and day in this place. Just the collective quiet and screams for food, for water, for mercy. Confessions of sins that the prisoners had not committed, anything to get out. Most harrowing were the screams. The whips, the flays, the screams. She winced every time she heard one. She shivered the first time she had heard one. She shuddered as she thought of that. The hair on her back rose, she pulled her arms around herself. It was unearthly. Not an animal's scream, not her screams when her husband beat her, not even when he had hit her with a bat. Not the screams of the dog that those kids had cornered, and were poking with sticks, some throwing stones at it, as if it were the devil himself. No, none of those screams. This came from a deeper place. This was a scream from before civilization. From before language. This was a scream, guttural. Loud, screeching, very much in pain.Complete
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When a beautiful African girl just starting her adulthood is kidnapped from her country and sold off to the Mafia, her life does a full 360. Will she be able to cope? ############### *She quickly gets on her knees and bows in front of me. "What are you atoning for?" I ask "I b-broke your cologne. I didn't mean to. I s-swear, it was a mistake. I was wiping the counter and I didn't see it, all I saw was the bottle broken on the floor and the carpet wet." She explains panicky. "And?" I ask trying not to sound amused. The sight in front of me is pleasing. The things I do to women on thier knees "I accept whatever punishment the Don gives" she says*
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