Jillian Chantal

Sorry I missed some weeks. I’m writing something totally different for me and the words that were used the last few weeks didn’t fit at all in my tale and there was no way to make it work. This week’s word is crazy and I can use that one for sure.

This story is about a slave and set in 1792. In this scene, the youngest son of the house is asking the slave, Theodora why she escaped (she was captured after one day and given lashes for it). She’s a house slave/seamstress and is working on a gown for one of his sisters.

Be sure to check out the other tales here. Mine is completely unedited so it will probably change at some point.

“Please tell me. I truly am baffled. Why you’d go. You have food, clothing and a roof over your head. Yet you risked it for a life as a fugitive. Why?”

The angst in his voice was what decided her to answer truthfully. She leaned forward with her elbows propped on her knees. “To answer one part of your question, I didn’t know I’d receive lashes if I was caught.” When he opened his mouth to speak, she held her right hand up to silence him. “Wait. You need to know this part.”

He nodded and remained silent with an eager expression on his face.

“While I had seen and heard the men who work the plantation being lashed, I was the first woman to my knowledge.”

His eyes widened. “Really? So you had no inkling that would happen?”

“None.”

“All right, so you didn’t realize your punishment would be so severe, but I still don’t know why you left. I want to understand.”

“I left because I’m not free.”

“But all your needs are tended to.”

Theodora laughed. A short, bitter sound even to her own ears. “As do you. But the difference is, you have the freedom to go into town to the shops, to attend horse races, to travel wherever you want to go with no fears of being beaten to a bloody mess if you choose to go. You have the freedom to not answer questions if you don’t want to and most importantly, you have the right to say no. I don’t have any of those things. The people who own me and my kind are the ones who make all the decisions. Down to even what I can eat. So, yes, my needs are tended to, but if I wanted to eat a beef loin steak instead of gruel, I don’t have the chance to make that choice.”

A shadow passed across his eyes. She couldn’t tell if it was pity or understanding, but she thought for a moment—perhaps—that he understood.

“Thank you for explaining. I think I see better now.”

She gave him a sad smile. “And I thank you for saying thank you. Those words are never spoken to me unless by another of my kind. For you see, we’re politer to each other than your finely tutored gentlemen ever were or will be.”

He stood. “I will try to behave in a kinder manner. For I now see more than I did before coming in here this afternoon.”

When he was gone, Theodora thought back over the conversation. She was surprised at the questions he asked, but more stunned that he actually appeared to listen and take heed of her words.

Only time would tell if what they discussed had a true impact on him. She hoped so but wasn’t optimistic as he was of the class of people who didn’t normally care about her kind other than to get from them what they wanted.

She rose from her seat to make her way to the privy since she hadn’t had a break all day.

Before she could get to the door, Miss Emily came dashing in, with her headpiece in her hand and her hair in disarray. “You must come now. Mother is going crazy.”