“The sun won’t set for us no!”

“The moon won’t rise for us no!”

“And when the dead man’s call come!”

“My papa’s dead! My mama’s dead! No one come for me!”

The chanting of the slaves could be heard for miles and miles as they sung and harvested cotton from the cotton plants. 

Hands rough from the manual labour, this had been Yuri’s life since she was five. Fate hadn’t dealt her the nicest of hands as she was separated from her mother as a child and sold off to a very unforgiving slave master. The long, purple scars on her back served to remind her of the hardship she had gone through and of one fact: to fear the whip. 

The rattling of a car’s engine had her shifting her eyes so she could see what was transpiring at the porch of her master’s house. 

Seems like a new bunch of slaves have arrived…

Although throughout the years Yuri had seen many slaves join them, this batch seemed a little out of the ordinary. Pretending to stand up to stretch, Yuri finally managed to see why this batch of slaves were so peculiar. 

There was a white girl amongst them. 

The approaching shadow of one of the field’s slave master had Yuri returning to her work immediately. The cackling of the whip provided no further incentive. 

As her hands mechanically picked the cotton, Yuri’s mind wandered off to the white girl she had seen on the cart. 

What business does a white girl have becoming a slave…?

Seemed like she would only find out later. 

***

“Hijmaf, 270 pounds!”

“Minuk, 340 pounds!”

“Yuri, 450 pounds!”

“Tiffany, 320 pounds!”

“Take all those who didn’t pick at least 300 pounds out for a whipping,” Lord Gilbert commanded, his small, dark eyes scanning the slaves that managed to eschew the whipping. The sound of his leather boots could be heard as he paced up and down the room and instantly, Yuri knew he was planning something. 

“Yuri, step forward.”

Oh .

“I recorded that yesterday you picked 460 pounds. Why did you pick 10 less pounds today? Hmm?” Yuri could feel Gilbert’s eyes piercing through her and she gulped. 

“When I ask you a question,” A filthy finger forced Yuri to look at her slave master. “I EXPECT AN ANSWER!”

“ARGHHH!” Yuri cried in agony as Gilbert stepped on her injured toe. Seconds felt like minutes before he finally decided to remove his weight. Sobbing, Yuri lifted her foot off the ground as red stained the floor. 

“You’re lucky that you pick the most cotton here or else I would have whipped you dead already,” Gilbert growled in Yuri’s ear before pushing her away. “Now, back in line.”

Tears of hatred made their way to Yuri’s eyes as she hobbled back to her place. But pain was a constant in the life of a slave and she quickly dried her tears as her master gestured for the new slaves to enter the barn. 

“These will be your fellow slaves from now on. Most of them came from Mr. Spencer’s cotton plantation so they know their stuff. Yuri, I need you to take this girl here and teach her how to pick cotton,” The look in Gilbert’s eyes meant that by the end of the month, the girl had to be able to pick as much cotton as Yuri, or they would both get a severe whipping. 

Yuri gulped.

“That’s all for today. Tiffany, give the new idiots an overview of how we work.” 

With that, Gilbert stepped out of the barn and the lack of his presence claimed Yuri down immensely. Relieved, she sat down on the barn floor and inspected her bleeding, swollen toe. 

“Ah!” Yuri hissed as her finger brushed the side of her toe. 

“You okay?” 

Yuri looked up to see a beautiful angel before her. Her complexion was utterly perfect and her round eyes full of concern captivated Yuri instantly. 

“Hey, Yuri, are you okay?” The question broke Yuri’s train of thought and she stumbled to find a reply, her mind not comprehending how the girl knew her name.  

“Yea, it’s just swollen-“

“-and bleeding.