Secrets (BWWM)

Getting to Know

This is Annabelle's p.o.v
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This is going to break me, Jesus I pray for you to help us slaves, this is heart wreaking.
I see little kids in fields when they're supposed to be playing, the elderly on their knees getting whipped because theyre not moving fast enough. So I took it upon myself to talk to Master McCarthy, which he might not like it because of what I said to his mother.

Did I forget to tell what happened to me yesterday when she walked out that door, I regretted making the decision to open my mouth in the first place. As he looked at me in hatred, I took off to my room,which wasn't far from the living room. Before I could have closed the door, I was slammed into the wall: hitting my head first. I was thinking if I could have ran the first night but I said no and tried to talk to him about my situation.
But seeing this he didn't want to talk to me, yet alone be in the same room. Yes I may have a black eye, a couple of bruises over my body, and blood wounds on my back; I don't think he is finished. After trying to fight back and I knew I couldn't win, I tried to give up but I couldn't unless I wanted to die. He had a few nail marks on him- preferably his face- and on his neck. What I didn't expect for him to do is give me an eye patch, like he knew something was going to happen to me.
Also, I didn't sleep in my assigned bed, for one hour I was going through pain as he forced me to do things I didn't want to do, one which included me of losing my innocence. After that he took me to his basement where I was cuffed to the ceiling while my feet was chained to the floor, beating me with his bare hands. To say that I was going to get into this and have no problems because he seemed nice at first but now I made the wrong assumption.

As I did the things he told me to do in time was breath taking. My back was aching and my ankles were hurting. If I didn't he would have repeated his same routine but for a few more hours and I didn't want that today. After I washed up everything and feed him dinner I decided it was time to talk to him.
I walked closely to the wall, just in case I fainted, I knew nobody would come for me because of who I was: a slave. I knocked on his office door and waited for his approval but he didn't say a word. I knocked one more time,trying to make my blisters open on my knuckles. In return I didn't get a answer so I simply just said, "Goodnight sir."
I walked slowly upstairs making sure his room was okay, when I was heading downstairs someone stopped me.

"Hey nigga' girl, what are you doing in the master house."
I look down before answering him, "I'm his new house slave sir. I was just making sure his room was straight... "
"I didn't ask for any back lip, now did I? I also didn't ask for no excuse either."
"No sir."
"Now get your ass into the slave quarters where you belong. We can do it the easy way or the hard way."
"But sir, Master McCarthy bought me himself.

The next thing I knew my head had hit the wall and I was being choked by his heavy hands. Even when I tried to talk, I couldn't. Even when I tried to pry his hands from around my throat I couldn't. The few more minutes before my eyes went black was that McCarthy was going upstairs to his room, not even looking back. I fell into his arm and my vision went out in just 3 seconds of me on the floor.

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Next morning

As I woke up to water on my face, I found myself in an unfamiliar bed. "Get your ass on up, so you can be out there with the rest of them niggas."
I look at the unfamiliar man as he drag me towards the field and I look around to see what they're doing. I try to speak but words aren't able to be formed. I tried again but felt a whip on my back. I knew I couldn't show emotions, because emotions were the only things they were satisfied by. "Get to it unless you want three more."

I got on my knees and started to pick the cotton. As soon as I got to the third bush my fingers were bleeding and I heard the rest of the slaves whispering things about me. 'don't cry, don't cry' were the words that went through my head everytime I heard something mean and everytime I got whipped for moving slow. I wanted to cry because I didn't have a voice and I wanted to cry for the harsh treatment of McCarthy.