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takes to the empty wooden chair. She sits down and drags it close to me.

The following day, a new face enters the room. A face that I dread. A face that I fear. A face that I hate. Master. He sneers at my disheveled state. I had been thinking about Papa and Misses’ baby, and could not sleep that night. “Hello there,” he hisses. I sit up and bow my head in the most sincere way I could. “Jane tells me about you. She tells me how you treat her horribly. She tells me how you despise me and are dying to leave this ‘hell.’ Well, Glory, today is your lucky day because you’re leaving here tomorrow morning,” he snarls. Pure horror floods my senses. A ringing starts in my ears and I sway, unable to keep my balance. Despite my terror, I hear him laugh. Laugh. Laugh at my dismay. Laugh at my fright. Laugh at me. He leaves with his smirk spread wide on his grotesque self. When I get my head straight, I bolt from the bed, ignoring my scars to find him. He’s not downstairs. I sprint outside and see him talking with the overseer. I go to them. “Master, master!” I shout, gasping for air. He glances over at me, and a hint of a smile flashes across his face before he turns back to the overseer. “Please, please don’t let me go. I said none of those things! Please wou-” I begin. “Go,” he tells me. And I do. I leave him and return back inside the house, a somber feeling covering me. Tears fall to the grass as I drag myself to the home. I enter and see Misses there, staring out the window. I can’t help myself. “Why?” I ask as tears run down my face. She looks at me and says softly, “I had to. You bring me too many bad

“Hello, Glory,” she croons with a tiny

grin.

I’m about to wish her a good morning, but then I see her eyes. Tears are building up in them. A single one rolls down her

I wake up to the sound of the whip ringing in my ears.

gentle face, but her smile stays still. In a quick motion she

reaches a hand up to wipe the droplet. “What is it, Misses?” I question.

She looks down and shakes her head

faintly.

“I just have something on my mind,”

she answers.

She brings her eyes back up to me

and rests her chin on her hand.

“I’m thinking of someone I lost,” she

whispers.

I see Papa then. His strong self protecting me as much as possible from the dangers in this world. I miss him. “My baby, I lost her,” Misses continues. “I didn’t even know her. She was a stillborn. She was taken from me. I didn’t know what I had done. Perhaps she died because of my sins,” she chokes. Tears now stream down her face, but she doesn’t stop them. “I- I don’t know what I-” she sobs. I sit up, my scars from lighting stinging while I do so. I extend my hand and touch her arm lightly. She looks up and reaches out to me. She wraps her arms around me and cries on my thin shoulder. I am shocked at first but return the embrace. Together the two of us cry silently; me for Papa and her for her unknown baby. I wonder why she does this. Never before has she shown me any affection, other than give me fresher food than the other slaves. But I am soundlessly grateful for this. She is the first to pull away.

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