It all started 3 long hard weeks ago. When a cold white male bought me as his dutiful slave. He has two beautiful daughters that I was never supposed to let out of my sight. They were sweet young girls that accepted everything and everyone, good or bad. They were loud, obnoxious, and funny. The best part about these girls was that they made me feel like I was one of them. They made me smile, laugh, and feel warm inside, like I was apart of their family. The father on the other hand? His name was Jack. He was mean and harsh. He made me feel like a nasty slave. All cold and bitter. He reminded me of the sound that’s made when you scratch your nails across a clean chalkboard.
I was in their giant, ranch style house for about 3 days when the girls started talking to me. God did it feel like christmas morning when I finally started to feel accepted by someone in this cold, sad town. We talked and played and even made warm rising chocolate chip cookies. They were those kind of cookies that when you bite into them you feel like you have to do it in slow motion to get the picture perfect effect. They asked me questions about my life in Africa and how many brothers and sisters I had. I told them how the air smelt, kind of like fresh cut grass and blooming flowers on a warm spring day. In the background you could always hear running water from the waterfalls, and animals roaring and squeaking. The things I would do to go back to that place.
A few days later they asked me the question that changed my life forever. Their young, innocent sounding voices asked me in sync, “Tituba do you think we’ll ever get married?”. Yes. That was it. That simple question eventually changed my fate.
I may have left out a few details about myself. In Africa...
... middle of paper ...
...ling, that’s how it felt.
I woke up, in a place so dark and cold. Black walls surrounding my cold shivering body. My eyes felt like rocks had been set on top of them. There was a little hole in the middle of the ceiling directly above me. A cement block was slowly removed from above it. I saw a face. I will always remember, so mean and harsh. It was Jack. He had a medium sized tin bucket that he was slowly tipping over. I tried standing up when I realized my scrawny arms and legs were attached to the ground. I screamed at the top of my lungs and then looked up to a dozen of black rats falling on top of my body. That was it. Now i'm just a figure. I live in the giant, ranch style house I lived in just three weeks before. The difference is this time they don't see me, they don’t hear me, they don’t even know I’m here. I finally changed the game, “ Death do us part.”
I woke up at John Morris’ house, on his coach. As I knocked a flyaway hair out of my face I noticed my face was wet, with tears, and then it all hit me at once that my Dad and Mrs. Borden were dead. Suddenly I couldn’t breathe. I heard John Morris ask if I was alright, but that seemed like a completely different world, I responded with a meek okay, so Mr. Morris wouldn’t see me like this. That didn’t work though, I saw his tall shadowy figure ducking under the door frame with tea. As Mr. Morris sat down and put the tea on the coffee table in front of us, I turned my head and quickly wiped the tears from my eyes in hopes he wouldn’t see.
I sat across the table from my dad while he stared at me with a disbelieving look on his face. My mom sat to the right of me with tears in her eyes. She could see my pain as well as my dads, and she knew the war that was about to start between my own father and me. My brother sat to the left of me making comments that only made the situation worse. I could feel myself dying inside as my heart began to break. I had no idea how to deal with the situation that I had gotten myself into. My new boyfriend was mixed in races, and my dad was totally against it. I sat there crying while trying to make him understand, saying things like, "Dad, he's a person not a color." But, it was like talking to a brick wall. My dad was brought up with the belief that races do not mix under any circumstances. I did not realize that dating someone whom was not completely of my race would tear my dad and I apart. We had talked about it before, but I did not think he would react the way that he did. The words and fights that followed tore me apart. I went from being near perfect in my fathers eyes to being a "spoiled, selfish brat" whom supposedly only cared about myself. I could not believe those words were coming out of my dad's mouth. Things got so bad that I did everything I could to stay away from home for as long as I could. I even tried to move out. I got yelled at every time I walked through the door. I went from being great to not being able to do anything right, and it all happened over night. To make things worse, some of my friends started to look at me in different ways too. If I wasn't around, they would say things like, "I can't believe Lori is a nigger lover." Others talked about me and said what I was doing was immoral.
My name is Tom Robinson. I lived on the outskirts of Maycomb Country with my wife, Helen, and kids. I worked on Mr. Link Deas's farm as a work hand. He hired me even though I'm a Negro and have a crippled arm; he's a very nice man. Every day on the way to work, I would pass the Ewell's home. They're a white family that lived by the dump. Sometimes I would pass by and help their oldest girl, Mayella, with some of their yard work. None of her younger brothers or sisters seem to help, so I liked to help her. I just thought it was the right thing for me to do, besides, I felt sorry for her. One day, Mayella says that she has something for me to do inside the house. None of the kids were around though, and I got kind of worried. When Mayella shut the door behind me and started kissing me, I knew I was in trouble. I started to push her away when her daddy, Bob, saw us through the window. I knew I was in trouble then, even though none of it was my fault, I was still black and it would be my fault if anyone caught me. When he opened the door, I just started to run. I don't know if Mayella was beaten by her father, but all I knew was I had to run. I ran all the way home, as fast as lighting. I told Helen about everything and she said it would all be okay. But Mr. Ewell had already called Mr. Heck Tate, the sheriff, and said that I had that I had raped and beaten Mayella. I knew that I could be killed on this charge, and I got really nervous. I wondered why everyone believed Mr. Ewell's lies. I couldn't have beaten up Mayella, I only have one good arm! The other one was torn up in a cotton gin when I was a little boy. But when they assigned Atticus Finch to be my lawyer for a trial, I put my soul to rest. Mr. Finch would take care of me no matter what he said. People in town were upset though. They said Mr.
My Dad was over protective and did not want his daughters to be in a relationship until we had our own job and could support ourselves financially. As time passed and my older sister, Madeline, grew up, he began to be more lenient and decided to let his first daughter be in a relationship at the age of eighteen. He informed Madeline that he would accept any man who loved her except a man from the family Chicas. My dad’s family and their family had been in a feud for years because the Chicas had killed members from our family, and our family killed members of their family. My father viewed them as barbarians, who would do no good to his
I didn’t know where exactly I was going. But I didn’t care. I walked aimlessly in search of shelter, a place where I could seek refuge. Hours went by, and I was losing hope. When out of the corner of my eye, through the distant, dense foliage. I noticed what could have been salvation. I was fatigued and in a feeble state, was I hallucinating? Or was this real? I stumbled through the valley, my eyes fixated on the dwelling ahead. Much to my delight it was very real. I arrived at the cabin and surveyed the surroundings. The shack itself was isolated, old and tattered, as if unattended to for an eternity. I knocked on the door, and suddenly became overwhelmed by a supernatural feeling. I could hear frantic rumbling and murmuring inside, evidently the occupant wasn’t expecting a visitor. I waited a while longer, and finally the door creaked open and I was greeted by three of the utmost repulsive looking creatures I had ever had the displeasure of laying my eyes on. As disgusted as I was, I was in no position to turn away, I needed their help. They welcomed me into their abode and provided me with nourishment and directions on how to return
Its been 872 days since I stepped foot in America. Me and my family were brought here as slaves through the Middle Passage. Arriving in Jamestown, Virginia. Me, father, mother and little Saddie. Since that exact secound my life has become a nightmare. Stripped from our freedom and against our will we were taken aboard a ship of about 50 people. It was a long journey. Each night I dreamt of leaving the ship and thought maybe I can escape but it didn’t go like that. The ship was tightly packed many diseases spread at one point I thought I was going to receive it as well. Aboard the ship I saw horrific things. People were brutally whipped. Some tried to kill themselves, some achieved it others being caught were brutally beaten. At one pont I thought
It felt like years. Every so often a rat would come up and i would catch them and eat them to survive. I felt myself becoming very very weak it became difficult to even open my eyes every day. I was sure I was going to die, I could feel it. I started thinking what would have happened if I would have just accepted my fate, and burned to death by the closing firey walls. I would have died faster that is for sure. I would not be suffering so much. I decided it was time to sleep once again so I layed down on the board and said to myself “I am never getting out of here” then I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep. I was later woken up by a conversation above. “How long ago did you close the walls?” The French General asked. “Well sir, it has been about two weeks” Bob explained to the General. There was a long pause and then the General asked “I mean are you sure he is dead?” They must have walked away cause I could not hear them any longer. Once the voices faded away I thought for sure I was going to die down here. I lost all hope and immediately regretted not allowing the walls to crush and burn me to
Although it was wonderful to see how happy the people were and how interesting it was to see another culture, this was not what impacted me the most. Every night, the three girls I shared a room with and I would have group devotions. We talked about some of the things we struggled with and it made me realize that I need to open up to people more more. I am very independent and I don’t like people knowing a lot about me, but how am I supposed to share God’s love if I don’t talk to people? I fell in love with the Lord again on this trip and I want to live in a way that makes it clear to everyone that I know that I am His
The child’s game had ended. After I nearly ran Kurtz over, we stood facing each other. He was unsteady on his feet, swaying like the trees that surrounded us. What stood before me was a ghost. Each layer of him had been carved away by the jungle, until nothing remained. Despite this, his strength still exceeded that of my own. With the tribal fires burning so close, one shout from him would unleash his natives on me. But in that same realization, I felt my own strength kindle inside me. I could just as easily muffle his command and overtake him. The scene flashed past my eyes as though I was remembering not imagining. The stick that lay two feet from me was beating down on the ghost, as my bloodied hand strangled his cries. My mind abruptly reeled backwards as I realized what unspeakable dark thoughts I had let in. Kurtz seemed to understand where my mind had wandered; it was as though the jungle’s wind has whispered my internal struggles to him. His face twisted into a smile. He seemed to gloat and enjoy standing by to watch my soul begin to destroy itself.
The voices in my head become a swelling crescendo. I forcefully grab my head in between my hands as the words echo through my skull. Pain pulsates with every word. I squeeze my temples hard with my palms but the pain is unbearable. Clawing at my face, a scream rips through me; sapping every last drop of energy in my body. Like a rag doll, I collapse onto the cold concrete floor as a growing darkness overcomes me.
He simply looked at me and said that he loved serving the kids because they are the unfortunate ones. I have learned what it means to serve and what it means to be content and trust God. I have learned what it means to be grateful, even through the hard times. My relationship with God has really improved since my experience in Tecate, and I will be forever grateful for that door that God opened in my life. Over the trip, I had the pleasure of living among and working with the men and women of the orphanage.
I awake to lukewarm water dripping down my forehead from a damp towel. I feel a thick liquid against my back. I scan the area, Unfamiliar. I find myself lying in a cot in a filthy room. The sight room itself was depressing, not that it was in extremely bad conditions but it was all…brown, the kind of brown that makes you feel depressed. It reeked of fish and motor oil, one of the queerest combinations of scents I have encountered. My ears start to pick up the deep monotones of a man speaking in other room. In my drowsy state I couldn’t make out exactly what he said but I did manage to g...
It was dark that night, I was nervous that this dreadful day was going to get worse. Sunday, October 23, 1998 I wanted to start writing this to tell about the weird things i’m starting to see in this new neighborhood. Gradually I keep seeing pots and pans on the sink suddenly move to the floor. I would ask my sister but she is out with my mom and dad getting the Halloween costumes. When they got home I didn’t tell them what I saw because i've seen Halloween movies and I have to have dissimulation otherwise the ghost will come out and get me first. October 24, 1998 I think I got a little nervous yesterday with the whole ghost thing. 12:32pm, Went to eat lunch with the family today and I go to get my coat. I heard the words furious and madness,
I remember them telling me that: “Things were bad at home, so we left.” It made sense to me, and it made sense to them when I told them that my Grandfather had gotten a new job, so we moved. I don’t remember the majority of our conversation, I do remember that they asked me some questions about English and I told them that their language sounded really pretty. One or both of these girls were my classmates for the next eight years and we were always on friendly terms, so I would say that the encounter was a positive one. The reaction from my family, was also
It was close to four o’clock in the morning and we were tired. We met up with my dad at the airport and grab us a taxi. As we leave, we drive by a desert that was completely surrounded with sand. Passing through we made it into the city, looking at the flashing lights and buildings that stood tall. It was too early to go out and explore, we needed our rest. As we walk into our hotel, it was like walking into an expensive apartment. With its very own kitchen, washer and dryer, and a patio to top it all