Hey everyone! This is for the Hogwarts School Assignment 8. The subject I chose this time was Charms, and the task for it was to write either about someone discovering somewhere no one has been in years, or to write about someone not wanting to be seen. Let's see what I end up coming out with this time!
My name is Amaryllis. If you're one of my friends, I might let you call me Ryli. But not very many people are lucky enough to be my friend. Not many people would want to. After all, I am a slave girl. What's more, I'm a white slave girl. Not many would like to be friends with a white slave girl.
I live in Mississippi, on a plantation called Milemarr. I am lucky, however. Since, I'm white, I work in the house, because no one would dream of putting a white person to work in the fields, even a white slave. I speak a little French too, because my family is French and Mrs. Miles wanted someone to talk French to, and she choose me.
I hate slave life. I know what's out there. At least, I have one friend. My friend Diella and I shared a bunk in the boardingroom of Milemarr, and we always talked about how we wanted to escape. Well, one day we did.
It was in May. It was the middle of the night, but I was not asleep. How could I sleep. Nerves were running rampant in my veins like a mug of hot coffee. I had to wait, however, until I was sure that all the others were asleep. Of course, there was always old One-Eyed John, the man who kept watch and made sure none of us ran away. We would have to make it past him if we wanted to see tomorrow.
After maybe an hour or so of anxious waiting, I deemed it safe enough. I tiptoed to Diella's bed, which was basically a box with some straw and a small blanket-not nearly enough for a young girl in the cold Missisippi nights. It was cold at night despite it being May.
"Wake up, Diella!" I whispered to the dark-skinned girl. She stirred, wondering what was going on.
"Ryli?" she asks. "What?"
"Let's go," I say. "Miles and everybody else has done gone to sleep! We can go now!"
With a quick nod, she gets up and makes to change out of her nightdress and into a normal dress. I didn't change into my nightdress, because I figured it would be useless.
"Where's One-Eye?" she asks as we step outside, a small rucksack thrown over my shoulder with a small bit of money I stole, food I kept, and some soap and other things.
"Down farther," I answer. "We're fine for now. As long as we're quiet, we'll be safe in about an hour."
The two of us continue on in silence. We know something is going to go wrong. No way was it so easy. Turns out I was right.
"John's there," I whisper, pointing to where the old man with only one eye sits, his shotgun in hand watching. "Careful."
Unfortunately, Diella had never been the most balanced of girls. I guess that's why Mrs. Miles taught me and not her how to dance. She tripped over a tree limb in our path.
"Who's there!" John yelled, quickly scrambling to load his gun. "Get back here, you niggers!"
"Diella!" I exclaim. I help her up. "Run and do not stop, no matter what!"
She nods, as we hurry through the thickening trees. John is yelling back after us, but we don't stop. My red hair flies behind me, sometimes catching on a tree limb.
"Slow down," I whispered. "Maybe if we let him pass us, he'll give up trying to find us and let us alone."
So we stop, hiding beside a huge oak tree. John passes us, holding his gun and a lantern.
"Is it just me, or does that lantern seem brighter than usual?" Diella asks me. I nod. I had the same thoughts.
We wait silently for a few minutes before John passes us heading back to the mansion. He just happens to shine his light our way.
"Ha!" he calls "Found ya!" He points his gun at us. "Don't try an' run or I'll shoot ya, you runaway kid niggers!"
"I ain't a nigger," I say. "I'm just as white as you!"
"We'll just see what Master Miles has to say about that, won't we?" John says. "Get out here."
"Don't do anything, Di," I say. "It's over. We're caught."
"Move it," John yells, his gun still aimed at us. "Get to the house real quick-like!"
We go as slowly as John will allow us, holding hands as we walk. It's good to know someone is on my side in this.
Once we're in the foyer of the mansion, John says to wait there and he would get Miles.
"I can't believe this," I fret. "We got ourselves caught."
"I'm sorry, Ryli," Diella says. "It was my fault. I tripped."
"I don't blame you, Di," I assure her. "It's wasn't like we wouldn't have been caught eventually."
"Well," a booming voice says. Mr. Miles is at the top of the stairs, watching us with hawk eyes. "Two little runaway slave girls. What makes you think a nigger girl and a white girl slave would have made it off my property?"
"Don't try and mess with us like you usually do," I say, breathing heavily. "Just tell us what our punishment is and be on your way."
"I am not going to tell you," he says. "Wouldn't want to ruin the surprise, would I? For now… you'll stay in the Hot Box."
The Hot Box is a concrete hole in the backyard that gets really hot in summer. But in the middle of the night, I think that it should be the Cold Box. I never thought I'd have to stay there. At least I won't be alone.
We were stuffed in unceremoniously, and whatever plans I'd had to endure my punishment quietly were undone. I began to hyperventilate, panicking. I'd never liked being in small spaces, and the space was barely big enough for one person, let alone two.
"Ryli, calm down." Diella's voice was a calming thing, soothing her a bit. "We'll get out in the morning. If you go insane in here, they will only make both of us stay longer."
I calmed down slightly, but I couldn't get over the fact that we were trapped, however long it would be for. I wished the Box would unlock on it's own, allowing the fresh night air in. As soon as she had wished it, she heard a small click.
"Did you hear that?" I asked Diella.
"Uh-huh," Diella confirmed. That meant that I was not going crazy. "Did the box unlock? That's what it sounded like.'
"Is someone there?" I whispered, not daring to go louder. Sometimes some of the other slaves broke people out of the Hot Box. They were punished the next day, often, but that didn't stop them usually.
There were no voices from outside. Hoping against hope, I pushed against the top of the box. It was heavy, but not impossible to push. I stared disbelieving as the box opened with a groan.
"How did that happen?" Diella asked, nervousness in her tone.
"No idea," I marveled, staring in shock. "But it doesn't matter. Let's go."