The Work Must Go On

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Rural Virginia: July 24, 1776
Hazel grew up knowing that she was the price of her mother's pain. Her mother told her it flatly one day when she was seven and had already seen more pain than Hades' previous, legitimate children ever would. Hazel realized then that she was a curse — she would never be loved by a father who had raped her mother and she would never be fully accepted by her mother for said father.
     Hazel always felt out of place — caught between two worlds. She was a slave, but as privileged as one who is chattel can be. Instead of having to work in the hot fields, Hazel was a house slave. While her half-siblings were taught to read and write, Hazel was taught to scrub and polish. When Bianca died, she was given an elaborate funeral. When Hazel's mother, Marie, died, she was given a simple one. Hades attended the burial of his wife, Maria, but not his concubine, Marie.
     Hazel was eighteen and since her mother had died five years ago, she felt more out of place than ever. Sometimes she caught herself wanting attention from her father. It confused her how she wanted him to love her. She was his property, but she was also his daughter and she wished he would come to recognize that.
The other slaves had known of Hazel's parentage long before Nico found out. Sometimes they pitied her, but oftentimes, Hazel could tell they resented her because she was spared whippings and beatings. I didn't ask for this, Hazel would think. She didn't voice her thoughts, though, because she knew no one would listen.
       After Nico left, the household became even more somber than ever. Hades drank and smoked more and Hazel could see the tension on Persephone's face when she looked at her husband. Hazel liked Persephone as much as you could like the wife of your father who happened to own you. Persephone has come from a humble background and while she was no abolitionist, she had been teaching Hazel to read.
    One evening, Hazel was sweeping the hallway when she heard voices. Even as she swept the dust into a near pile, she could pick up the words bring spoken through the bedroom door.
      "Your son has left and your other daughter is dead," Persephone said. "If Nico dies in the war, then who will inherit your property? We both know I'm barren."
      Barren, Hazel thought; Persephone was barren? Most men would never wed a wife they thought was barren, but perhaps Hades thought he had one heir already and that would suffice.
      "But she's half—"Hades said.
       "She's your daughter," Persephone interrupted. "Give her a chance. Please, I can teach her how to be a respectable wife."
      "It's a bad idea, my flower," Hades said. "Besides, who would marry her?"
       "She's a pretty girl with a rich and well-connected father," Persephone said. "She is hard-working and she goes to Church everyday with the rest of the slaves. I'm sure you could find a man who would marry her."
      "I'll think about it," Hades grunted.
       Hazel continued sweeping. She thanked God for letting her overhear the conversation. When she went to sleep at night, she dreamed of what it would be like to be free.
     

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