Creative story 2

                                                                  Slave Life


My name is William Kenning, born January 31, 1852. I was born a slave. However, I got fed up with my master and killed him for what he had done. I was only 18 when I did it. Before I explain to you why I killed him, I would like to give a little history of how it came to be.
    In the beginning, my master had been cruel to me ever since when I was a little boy. I never got a chance to grow up with my mother and father because my master had told me that they died trying to escape from their master at night. I was only a baby when they had me then. He told me their master took me away from them and killed both my parents from being beaten to death by him. My master said they died because of their disobedience and then told me if I ever tried to escape, he’ll do the same thing. My parent’s master didn’t want any thing to do with me, so he sold me to my master for 300 dollars. Over the years, I grew up doing nothing but hard labor. My master treated me like shit. I hated him so much. However, I ate well and had a room of my own to sleep in. I couldn’t argue with that. I never disobeyed my master, but there were time when I couldn’t meet my expectations in labor because of being exhausted. In result, my master would whip me. After my whipping, he then would tend to my wounds from the whip. I didn’t know what to think of him. My hatred towards my master grew stronger and stronger.
    A year later, while picking cotton from the field, I saw my master walking out of his house towards a white man in a suit. The white man then gave my master some papers and in exchange was money given to the white man. The man soon walked towards his wagon and pulled a beautiful black girl out. She had on nice looking clothes and represented a formal type style. She then went to my master and greeted him with a hand shake. I had never seen such a thing. Later that evening, my master called me to the living room and introduced me to the girl. The girl stood up from the couch and greeted me with such formal language I had never heard from a black person. Her name was Cindy. It turns out that she was sold to my master as a maid. My master then said that she’ll be living here from now on. I was kind of nervous because I had never been this close to a girl before. She was so pretty. Afterwards, my master had left the living room leaving us two together. I then introduced myself. I kind of stumbled my name a little bit from being nervous. She then laughed. I asked her why she talked so formal. Cindy told me that her past master had taught her how to read and speak English fluently when she was just a child. She then asked me if I wanted to learn how to read and speak fluently. I said yes, but wasn’t quite sure of what my master would do if he found out that I was learning how to read. To be honest, I really didn’t care.
    Two years later, I was reading like it was nothing. Cindy and I had grown into best friends. I had just turned 18 the second year. Our master didn’t know that Cindy had a lot of books stashed away in a hiding spot in her room. They were given to her from her past master. I knew if my master found out that we were reading, he’ll probably whip us both as punishment. I still didn’t care. My life had turned dramatically when Cindy came in it. I was so happy to have a friend like her. We would always talk about what we would do if we were free. Cindy told me that she wanted to be a teacher and teach all the black kids how to read. I had told her that I wanted to be a writer ever since she introduced those books to me. Some of the stories I read had inspired me to become a writer and create interesting stories for my readers. Cindy told me that it’ll happen one day. She always believed that we were going to be free. There were only two choices she had told me of becoming free. One was escaping and the other was dying and running free with the lord. I envied her because she always stayed positive. My love for her grew stronger and stronger. I then soon confessed my love towards her and she did the same. We both were in love with one another. Therefore, we kept it a secret from our master.
However, some secrets didn’t last that long.   
    It was the first day of summer. It was the day that changed my life forever. I was in the field doing my daily job. I hadn’t seen my master that morning. Cindy was in the house cleaning. One hour later, I saw my master coming from town headed toward the house in his wagon. Once he got off the wagon, I began to notice stumbling in his walk. It turned out that my master had come from town drunk. As he entered the house, he shouted Cindy’s name. This wasn’t the first time he had done this, but on this particular day, something was about to happen. As I continued picking cotton, out of no where, Cindy had shouted my name in a serious type manner. I thus dropped my basket of cotton and dashed my way towards the house. Once I entered, I heard my master shout, “shut up you bitch”. His voice came from upstairs. I then hopped up the stairs and kicked the door down. I couldn’t believe what I had seen. My master was rapping Cindy. Her books were scattered across the floor with pages ripped out of them. I then snatched my master off of her and pushed him into the wall. My mind went blank and I started hitting my master with my bare fists. He was too drunk to fight back. His pants were still down, but I didn’t give him time enough to pull them up. I kept bashing his face in with each punch I threw. I then threw my last left hook and knocked my master out on the floor. He was out cold. Cindy was on her bed trembling in fear. I then went to comfort her. She cried in my arms and I cried too. I was angry. I was pissed off at myself wishing I could’ve stopped this sooner if I had gone in the house when my master had shouted her name. Cindy told me that he caught her reading a book while cleaning. He then dragged her to her room and made her find the rest of the books that she was hiding. She said he tore the pages out of the books. My master then slapped her and she fell on the bed. Thus, he then started to rape her and that’s when Cindy called my name.   
    As I held Cindy in my arms, she grabbed me tightly and told me don’t let go. We stayed in that position for at least 10 minutes. Afterwards, I told her that we should leave now. She agreed, and we began to make our way out of the house. Just before we made it down the steps my master yelled my name, and I looked up and saw him holding a shotgun. He then pointed it at us, and I pushed Cindy out of the way. My master fired the first shot. He missed about half an inch away from my left shoulder. I then ran behind Cindy out of the house. My master was right behind us. However, when he ran out the house, he soon tripped up and fell. The shotgun flew from my master’s hand and landed on the ground. I then ran back towards the shotgun and grabbed it. My master got up and saw that I was holding the gun. I pointed it at him. He looked at me and smiled. My finger was an inch away from pulling the trigger. Cindy was behind me. My master stood there drunk. He soon begins to walk slowly towards me. I told him that I’ll shoot him if he came any closer. My master ignored what I said and kept walking towards us. He told me that I wasn’t gone pull the trigger. I cocked back the shotgun and told him to try me. My master then told me to give him the shotgun. I told him no. He then asked again. Once more I said no. However, for the third time, he said if I weren’t to give him the shotgun, he would beat me to death just like he did to my parents.
    The shock of what my master had told me, made my left index finger pull the trigger. I had killed my master who lied to me about the death of my parents. I soon had realized that my parent’s master was my master. I fell to my knees and cried. Cindy knelt down and hugged me from behind. Both of our lives had changed that day. We both soon got ourselves together and escaped from the slave life to a free life. Cindy was right after all.