Pretty Slave Girl
A bead of sweat rolled down Elliot Jones' face. She straightened her back, standing upright. The hot sun was beating down on her dark skin, no trees to shade any of the other slaves in the large cotton field. Her hands were rough and calloused, tougher than rocks. She had worked in the vast green land for 5 years, ever sense she turned 13. Now she was 18, and dying to get out. She had been at the cursed place for so many years...
"Girl! Get back to work!" A rough voice called, dragging Elliot out of her thoughts. She bent down and began pulling more cotton from the spiked plants.
She thought back to when she had freedom, back in Africa, before she had been shipped through the rough trade routes and treated like a bag of flour instead of a human. Her parents had died on the trip over, so she had no one. No one but herself.
That night, as Elliot lay on her rough cot, she imagined what it would be like to be free. Free... that word was the least spoken on the plantation,