Ciara's badgeIn this week’s blog post, our junior blogger Ciara writes a very powerful story on the topic of slavery. Please support Ciara with her writing by leaving a comment in the comments section below.

 

I am a soldier fighting to free the slaves, my name is Jack and I am from Kentucky.

 

When I was young  my father owned slaves. I hated to see them get beaten for  no reason. When I was 10 I tried making friends with one of the young slaves my age, but while we were playing tag he tagged me but at the same time I tripped over a root. My dad thought he pushed me and started to beat the 10 year old slave. It was very devastating to watch him bleed and mourn for  help, but I just sat there and watched him. When my dad was done he told him, very meanly, to get back to work, he then walked over to me, while he the slave was still weeping and mourning on the ground, and says “If he messes with you again you tell me and I’ll kill him.” I did not even say that I tripped myself and it was not him, I could have said that before he got beaten.While he tries to get up he moans in excruciating pain from the beating he just got, I try to go over and help him, but he just says “Leave me alone before you get me in more trouble.” When he said that it was like a slap in the face, I never wanted to hurt anybody, I just wanted to help, but I just made things worse.

 

When I was 17  I saw my dad  beating a woman. I remembered that the last time I saw this happening to my young play mate I did nothing. I just stood there and watched him get beaten. I still remember the sound of the slaps he got on his back and the terror in his face as he watched the whip come upon his back. But this time I want to change and make things right, so right when my dad was about to slam the whip back down on her back I slightly jerked his shoulder back. Dad, thinking it was a slave, swung around  with all his might  and slapped me with the whip right across my face. All the pain came rushing to my face as blood poured out of my gash onto my clothes, I yelped in pain and agony. It felt like 2 million bees had stung me in my face at the same time. My father watched me in horror as he saw the gash on my face. I could just see how scared he looked as he saw the gash he made in my face. When he bent down to see if I was okay I scooted away from him and told him he was a monster. He tried to tell me that he thought I was a slave touching him, but I got up and told him that I was trying to get him to stop whipping the  slave, but instead you whipped me. When he was about to respond, I ran away into the woods. There I cried and sat on a rock by a stream while the light shines onto my stinging face for 3 hours straight.

 

martinique-206916_640 (1)

When I finally come home, it was dark, I see my mom weeping on the porch in a rocking chair, I asked what was wrong but she does not say anything. She pointed to the tree on the other side of porch. I walk over to the tree and see my dad hanging from a rope by his neck, I fall to my knees seeing him and start crying again. I just wish I could have said goodbye, but it is too late and I just have to move on so I’m not stuck in the past. I hear someone come  behind me and put a hand on my shirt. I look at the person with my wet eyes  and I realise it was that boy that I once played tag with, then he says  “I’m sorry about your dad.” I know how it feels to be separated from your father. I ask him, with sniffles in between, what was it like to be sold and separated from your father. He told me it was like you have to live a whole other life, because your father is the  heart of your family and then you get separated from it. The boy and I talked for hours. Eventually I fall asleep into the deep dark. I wake  up right where I was left, but there was something  missing, dad’s body is missing, but there is still a rope. Then my mom shouts “Hurry up or else you will be late to the funeral.” So I hurry up and get ready to go. When we came back I notice that there is a note at the tree my dad hung himself on. The note said:

 

  Dear Jack,

              I am very sorry for hitting you. I really did not mean to hit you. I didn’t know that I was acting like  monster, but now I realise I was. I have torn families apart like a monster ripping an animal limb from limb.I have also beaten people like a monster would attack an animal. I want you to set all our slaves free, and I want you to help stop slavery.

 

                                                                                             Love,

 

                                                                                                       DAD

 

From that day on I’ve  wanted to complete my dad’s task and now I have a chance to do so  by being a soldier in the civil war and fighting for slaves freedom.

1 comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *