Fifty years

in an era of time where slavery was an approved trade, Naomi and her family were constrained to the Stanley's family, noble, respected. That is, until the fiftieth year. The fiftieth year was symbolic for freedom and every slave was free to leave if they wanted. But can Naomi and her family last till that year without things changing drastically.She tells her story, from some time where things took a different turn from the normalcy of her life. 22years into the fifty years, 8 years to the fiftieth year.I was running, hard. My feet crunched heavily into the snow as I maneuvered my way around the trees, clothed now in snow. I made a pause to catch my breath, Abigail had gotten it into her fair head to chase me around the forest and had instigated the snow ball fight. I let out a breathy laugh, puff of vapour billowing around my face, I couldn't say I didn't enjoy the freedom, I just needed to catch my breath.I stood up straight from my bended position

I took a shaky breath, my mama placed a hand on my shoulder. 'Did he tell you why '?  Mary looked at her incredulously, mama sighed and shook her head at her. 'Never mind that. Naomi -' I turned around, ' I didn't do anything mama ', she raised her brow at me, ' I never said you did'. ' But -', she shook her head at me. 'Just go. But remember, answer them with a yes sir or no sir. Never say anything that might be used against you. Never ever look at them straight in the eye for long '!I stepped into the main house to the parlour through the servant section.  The sun was streaming through the open window and Mr Stanley Jr was sitting backing it, his blond hair shinning golden against the setting sun. His green eyes so dark against the sun, I couldn't be sure what he was thinking. Beside him was his father, Mr Stanley, in all his white haired glory. He'd taken off his hat, and it was probably hanging on the cap hook - when Mrs Stanley had been alive, she couldn't cond

'Say, winter is just around the corner'. Abigail lay on her bed on her stomach, her feet raised up and her dress falling to pool around her, altogether looking very unlady-like. 'Mm hm', I murmured, concentrating on stitching a tear on her silk stockings, the type her mother liked and the ones Abigail was frequently destroying, only because they were more in number than her cotton ones. So there I sat, trying to stitch it carefully and neatly - which is rather difficult since the tear was not running along the seams but right through the middle, not very conspicuous you see-, so Mrs Stanly does not start a row with Abigail and somehow include all innocent and wary bystanders into it.'Well, i wish we could go outside you see, while the weather is still warm. I'm so bored, can we not go outside'? She had my attention now and i raised my head to watch her, her gaze directed to the open window, chin resting on her palms, looking forlorn. She sigh

Death hung heavily in the air.The solemn tolling of the church bell rang across the fields and through the distance to the ears of those in the Stanley's house. I was outside by the cloth line, hanging up my clothes when i heard the distant sound of the church bell. A wave of shivers ran up my spine and i frowned, a slight fold forming  between my brows as i stared across the distance.Quickly, i shoved the shoulder of my dress into the wooden peg and hurried to the house. On the way, i saw James the stable boy and withheld him. 'What is going on? Why i the church bell ringing when it is not service day'? I inquired. 'Well ma'am, seems loike Mrs Daniel has finally gone to meet the Lord'. I gasped and let him go. Could that really be true? Sprinting into the house, i noticed the disheveled state it was in, every one seemed to be gravitating to the drawing room, and so i myself moved in that direction, shoving and pushing people out of the way as i went. 'Out of

I had learnt a long time ago that the world didn't work as one planned and the orange wasn't ever shared equally. One year back, I used to have this nightmares when i was younger, and then i had it again, four years after i had first been assigned as Abigail's hand maid. It was almost always the same scenery; i was on a boat or a ship because the ground swayed. Voices bounced around and above  me and sometimes it blended with the hum of  the ocean.  I was in a  dark room along with others, although i could not see them, i heard them, shuffling, coughing, children crying and sometimes hums that turned to singing. Foot steps echoed above us as the person pounded down the stairs. I was singing softly along with the crowd which were already quietening. 'Who said ye baboons were allowed to sing' . His booming voice hollered across the room. He stepped threateningly towards  me, i could see his