Chapter 1

 

A tear, cold and full of sorrow, slid down my soft cheek.  My small child-like hands were wrapped in my mother’s hands, big and protecting.  They shook slightly, but I could not figure out why.  I looked up into her eyes and saw a small tear sliding down her own cheek.  She whispered something in my ear that sounded like, “I love you sweetie and always will.  You remember that forever.  Never forget that I am always with you.”  The words where slurred by the trembling of her lip.  I looked deep into her eyes, but only saw my five year old reflection.  More tears slid down her cheeks, covering them in a blanket of salt. 

            “I will never forget,” I whispered in her ear.  I did not understand why she was saying goodbye.  I took my hand from hers and dried the tears from her cheek.  “You’re making me cry,” I said.  She smiled warmly and muttered an apology.  Suddenly I was hugged tight and unable to breath.  My mom pulled back as soon as she heard heavy footsteps, but I clung to her.  I did not want this moment to end. 

            “It is time,” a deep voiced said.  My mom nodded and stood.  I looked up at her once more, but said nothing.  There was a man in the unlocked doorway, keys dangling from his hand.  Calvin stood next to him, shivering violently.  He saw me glance at him and he shook his head as if to rid himself of a bad thought. 

            My mother stepped out of the cell and the man was about to lock the door behind him when I ran out bawling.  I grasped my mothers arm and tried to drag her back into our cell, but she stood rigid.  The man sighed and started to lead the way down the hallway.  Calvin grabbed my arm abruptly and started to fumble for his keys, but his shaking hands where making it a difficult task. 

            “Leave her,” the man growled.

            “It will scar her for life!  She must stay in her cell,” Calvin said franticly.  My mother started to shake me off her arm.  She whispered something to me, but I would not listen.  Clinging to arm as tightly as I could, I started to scream.

            “I coming with you mommy!”

            “No you’re not sweetie,” my mom almost growled.

            “Follow me,” Calvin urged. 

“No!”  

“Enough!  She is coming,” the man said.  My mom glared at him with such intensity that he shuddered but didn’t change his decision.  I would have smiled if I hadn’t felt the tension in the air.  Where was mommy going, I thought.  Down the hallway we continued, as the man and I listen to the sobbing of my mother and the quiet weeping of Calvin.  What was wrong with him?  He was always happy, I told myself. 

            We came to a door made of steel.  The sight of it made me shuddered quietly.  There was something about that door that frightened me.  At times you could hear screams coming out of it followed by laughter.  The window, I noticed, was blacked out.  Why, I questioned silently.  It had never been blacked out before.

            I was thrown into a small wooden chair by the man.  Calvin made what seemed to be a squeak, too frightened to cry anymore.  I realized that I was quivering as panic overwhelmed me.  My mom was thrown against a wall and chained to it.  She didn’t struggle, knowing there was nothing she could do.  Why were we here, I demanded although I knew that the man could not hear my thoughts.

            My eyes grew wide as I became aware of the blood that stained the ground.  My breaths became short and quick.  Calvin had walked over to my mother, nodding as she whispered something in his ear.  Mother looked back at me and Calvin nodded to her once more. 

            I glanced at the door to see Chad, the slave farm owner, walk in with a whip in his hands.  Calvin was at my side and was blocking my sight of mommy with his fifteen year old face.  Tears and yet more tears slid down his face.

            “Don’t worry Silver; everything’s going to be fine.  I will take care of you,” Calvin said as calmly as he could. 

            “But what about mommy?  Where is she going,” I demanded.  There was no exit in sight besides the one we had come through.  I saw a greedy smile painted on Chad’s face as he raised his whip.  Comprehension had eluded me until this moment.  Mommy was going to die….

            “NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”  I sprung up from my seat only to be restrained by Calvin.  I was surprised he had the strength to hold me back for he had used up most of it while crying.  Anger ripped through me like wildfire as I could feel a transformation happening.  Right before the whip reached her neck she lipped, “Don’t let them know.” And then…

            I woke from my deep sleep breathing heavily.  My rock hard bed was soaked with my tears as well as my thread bare sheet.  I slowly got up out of my bed, only to realize that it was barely midnight.  I sat at the edge in a daze for a couple of moments, and then crossed over to my dresser.  I ran my fingers over the wood searching.  Where was it?  My fingers slid over some carved out words that I didn’t have to read to know what they said.  The image of the words crawled into my mind.  They said “I love you Silver, Mom”

            Suddenly a thump came from outside my cell.  I almost tripped over my big toe as I stumbled to the cell door to investigate.  Stupid toe, I thought.  I looked through the bars to see little Steven being escorted to the Time-out Room.  I couldn’t think of a reason for why he was going there.  Steven was the most well behaved kid in the farm.  The Time-out Room was the room where they talked to misbehaved kids.

            Kids of all colors consisted of most of the slaves in these halls.  The grown ups were either killed or sold as nannies.  I suppose that’s what happened to my mom.

            I heard another thump.  I followed Steven’s gaze and was met with a boy’s.  Calvin had him pinned against the wall.  His breathing was ragged and he was covered in sweat.  Calvin was also catching his breath.  The boy must be a new slave because I didn’t recognize him.  The boy started to say something, but was cut off.

            “Shut up already you annoying little brat!  I have had enough of you.  You live here now and you WILL follow the rules, or else,” Calvin snarled.  The boy said nothing as he glared at Calvin.  Then, like a flash of lightening, the boy struck Calvin.  Stunned, Calvin stood there for a second.  The boy slipped out from under his arms and started sprinting down the hall towards my cell.

            He’d never make it, I thought miserably.  I wanted him to make it to an exit, but I knew it was impossible.  Calvin was the fastest person on this farm.  Even if the boy did out run Calvin he would still have to fight the other guards.  I sighed.  No one would ever have a chance to get out of this farm.

            The boy was a couple yards away from my cell when Calvin caught up to him.  The boy landed with another thud after being tripped by Calvin.

            “You’re going to have a hard time running from me,” Calvin jeered.  Calvin helped him up only to force him forward.

“Let me go,” the boy half growled, half pleaded.

“In your dreams, kid.”  The boy swiveled abruptly and faced Calvin.  His fist flew into Calvin’s stomach, making Calvin’s forehead fly into his.  Calvin collapsed to the ground, panting.  The boy turned to run, but Calvin caught his ankle.  He was yanked to the ground, making him lose his balance and fall onto Calvin.  I couldn’t help my gasp that slipped from my lips.  The boy glanced up at me with pleading eyes.  I wanted so badly to help him, but what could I do?  I was just another slave girl with no power at all.

I watched as Calvin sluggishly got up and grabbed the boy’s shirt collar.  The boy was lifted off the ground and held in the air.  “All right, I’ve put up with you long enough.  You’re going to the Beating Room,” Calvin growled.  Sadness flashed through Calvin’s eyes.  I knew he didn’t want to hurt this boy any more than he wanted to hurt himself.  He had to though, it was his job.

Calvin started dragging the boy to the steal door.  The sight of the steal door made me flinch, reminding me of what went on long ago. The boy’s eyes were wide with terror as he struggled to get away.   “Don’t take him there.  He hasn’t used up his warning yet!”  Calvin looked at me, then at the boy.  What a bunch of crap that was, I thought.  Calvin was probably wondering what I was talking about.  He was probably the only one that would believe that.

“All right,” Calvin sighed, sounding relieved.  Calvin opened the cell and wrenched the boy into the cell.  The boy stumbled a bit, then landed on the jagged ground wincing.  He got up slowly, seeming to take in his surroundings.

“Are you okay,” I questioned quietly.  I studied him more closely.  The boy was around the same age I was, 15; brown haired, green eyed and quite skinny.  As I peered closer I noticed a tiny scar next to his nose.  He couldn’t be a field slave.  He looked to weak and his eyes where soft, unlike those of a field slave. 

 “Do I look okay to you,” he retorted weakly.  I followed him over to the bed and sat down.  His face looked tight.  I rubbed his arm soothingly, but he pulled away.  I felt his pain, maybe even more than he felt it.

“You should relax,” I mumbled.

“How can I?  I will probably never see my family again,” he growled sadly.

“What’s your name?”  I wanted to take his mind off his family.  I wanted to make him feel better.

“It’s Ben,” He whispered absentmindedly. 

“Mine’s Silver,” I said cheerfully.

“It suits you,” he whispered.  I touched my silver hair lightly and looked at my  skin.  It was deathly pale.  He had probably noticed my silver eyes also.  I shuddered slightly, think about what a freak I was.  His eyes stayed locked on the wall, but he smiled.

“Are, I mean, were you a field slave.  You don’t look like one.  I can’t imagine where else you could have come from though.”

“I’m from Tennessee,” he sighed.  I wondered what that was.  Possibilities sprung up in my mind of what that could be.  I didn’t ask though.  I didn’t want to remind him of his family.

“Oh, well this is where I was born.  I haven’t been out side these walls,” I said grimly.  He looked at me for the first time in pure shock.  I saw a shudder run down his spine.  We stayed silent for quite a while. 

I crawled onto the floor tiredly.  I could feel his eyes follow me.  “You can sleep on the bed tonight,” I announced.  I could barely make out his thanks.  I felt a warm sensation spread through me.  Finally a cell mate, someone to share my pain with.  Tiredness overwhelmed me once again, as the same dream entered my mind.    

Reviews

[Erica Nottestad]

"There was no place to go on this slave farm. At least that was what every staff member had told all of us here in the slave farm. They had said that the only thing surrounding this slave farm was forest upon forest."
Okay. We get it. It's a slave farm. You don't need to use the same phrase three times in three sentences.

Now that that's off my chest, this is a really interesting and creative piece. I love that it's set in the United States and that your characters are American. Despite the far-fetched and fantastical approach you're taking, it's really easy for the reader to get a grasp on what's going on based on those facts alone. While I'm talking about characters, though, what prompted you to go with the name "Silver"? It's obviously an unusual name, and that's fine, but there needs to be something extraordinary about your protagonist if you're going to allow her to have such an unusual name. As of now, we have nothing. Ben makes a comment on how the name suits her, but she hasn't really DONE anything yet. Right now, to me, the name Silver serves as more of a distraction than anything. If you use a name as a descriptor, you're relying on something relative and intangible to define your most important character, and without giving the name a foundation on which the reader can stand, it'll fall flat.