Queen of Darkness
The Beginning

Chapter 2 - The Beginning

Once I showed Alex around, we settled down in the living area. Alex sat comfortably on one of the couches sipping on a glass of bourbon. I stood slightly behind him next to the wall-to-wall window, overlooking the city below. The recorder set up on the coffee table. We agreed that I was going to tell him all he needed to know, without any interruptions. We already lost too much time and we needed to make up for it somehow.

Me:” Like I mentioned yesterday... I was born in 1716 into slavery. I was born on a cotton plantation. Slavery was very much a part of that era. My mother was a house maid and was responsible for the cleaning and upkeep of the plantation house. One of a few house maids I might add, the houses were large and cleaning without today’s appliances was an endless task. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the Findɴovel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

The reason why she had it easier than most of the other slaves, if you could call that easier, was due to her history. Her grandmother, my great grandmother, a slave that was used by her master for sexual relations then became pregnant with my grandmother as a result thereof.

You have to understand, In those years it was frowned upon to have sex with a slave and yet most men did it never-the-less, They just made sure not to get caught.

Slaves were nothing more than possessions and possessions were owned, used than disposed of. If slaves stepped out of line or tried to run away they were beaten, sometimes severely and sometimes for no apparent reason... sometimes just for amusement.

Slaves who tried to run away were hanged or maimed, there were no consequences for treating slaves badly, no one really cared. It was not a crime to kill a slave up until 1723 and even once it became a criminal offence, it still happened.

Children born to slaves from their white masters were of mixed race and were classified as Mulatto’s, but they were still slaves, even if their father was white and even if they in turn were lighter in complexion. These white fathers would never admit to having a child with a slave and would never treat these offspring any different to other slaves, some even went out of their way to get rid of them so that there would be no evidence of what they’ve done, but mostly they were just another possession. The more slaves you had the richer you were. Slaves could be traded and sold. The strong one’s could do hard labour and free labour was how they made money.

My grandmother was born a Mulatto and sold off when she was fourteen. In turn she also became pregnant from her white Master and had yet another Mulatto off-spring... my mother. My grandmother was already lighter in complexion being a Mulatto and having a daughter with her master ensured my mother was also light in complexion. A never ending cycle of white masters impregnating Mulatto slaves making more Mulatto bastards.

My mother’s biological father died and left all his inheritance to his only son, Master Michael.

Master Michael was one of a very few good white men in an era where slaves were nothing, he wasn’t particularly fond of enslaving people or punishing slaves. And knowing my mother was in fact his half-sister even though that fact was not permitted to be spoken about, he had kindness towards my mother and made her one of the maids in the plantation house to spare her from more strenuous work.

His only other sibling, an older sister, Lady Eleanor married and lived on the next plantation over. The plantation still belonged to Master Michael but because she was his only sibling he allowed her and her husband to live there. Her husband Master Frederick was a fierce and horrid man and needless to say their son, Master Nolan was just as terrible, if not worse. Master Nolan was only 10 years older than me and I grew up with him taunting the slave children, bullying and tormenting us and we couldn’t do anything but let him.

My father was also a slave but not a local one. He was what they called an Hm... Yes not much of a name but that’s what they called Egyptian slaves. He was bought and brought to the plantation for his strength, and he was Master Michael’s most expensive slave and therefore one of his most prized possessions. Unlike local slaves he had a much larger frame, pitch back straight hair, olive skin tone and green eyes. He could also read, write and do math, which was uncommon for a slave and because of how much he cost, and his strength and abilities, He was put in charge of all the other slaves and assisted Master Michael in daily tasks. He was Master Michael’s Personal Slave which allowed him to go places and be places other slaves were not allowed to go. I guess you could call him Master Michael’s butler in today’s terms.

When my parents had me my grandmother and mother’s lightened pigmentation came well into play and nature decided to play a trick of her own... call it a curse or maybe it was karma but as you can see I was born white....Not just white but a very pale white, with straight black hair and marble grey eyes, most probably from my father’s side. When looked upon, no one thought me anything less than white, and surely not a slave but because I was born to slaves, in a time of slavery, I was still labelled as Mulatto off-spring, making me a slave.

Master Michael did take pity on me having such fair skin tone because I burned easily in the sun unlike other slaves, and for that reason my chores were tending to the livestock, gardening around the plantation house and making soap.

The plantation house was mostly shaded by big trees, and the livestock were kept in barns and stables all of these tasks shielded me from the sun, it was only when I needed to make soap that I ventured away from the shade.

If you think Master Michael treated me better because I was of white complexion you would be mistaken, the only reason he took pity on me and gave me work that was done in the shade or in the barns was the fact that if I got sunburned, I got physically ill and I couldn’t work. A slave that’s unable to work was of no use.

I hated the strenuous task of soap making. Soap was not available from stores in those times. Things were very different. Soap was only manufactured and sold in shops in the late 1700′s and even then, it was an expensive commodity and nothing like the soap you are used to.

Soap was made by hand in three stages. Using suet (animal fat) they mixed it with water and boiled slowly then drained through a cloth the drained liquid was called tallow and was then left to cool.

Wood ashes left over from fires were boiled with water and using a leech barrel the lye water was captured.

Mixing the lye water with the tallow until the correct consistency was obtained the porridge mixture was poured into self-made brick like containers to dry.

The soap was made outside over fire far away from the plantation house as the smell was horrendous and lingering. Even adding lavender or lemon to the suet for a bit of aroma did not really help lighten the stench of the soap. There’s nothing that I can compare the smell too, yet when I think of making soap I can still smell the horrid smell.

The other slave children did not speak to me as they were given harder work, weeding and working the fields but it was more than just that, if someone other than the people we knew saw them interacting with me they would get into trouble as I could be mistaken as white, It did happen once so it was understandable.

I was about six years old and had a friend named George. George was only a year older than me and we were making up games while doing our chores, to make the day bearable. We were so busy with our own conversation and game that we didn’t notice Master Michael’s new guests’ arriving.

George shoved me, causing me to topple over just as Master Michael’s guests rounded the corner. To them it looked like a slave pushing a white girl hard causing her to fall. Not knowing I was not considered white and also a slave Master Thomson immediately grabbed George and gave him 15 lashes. We were in no position to try and explain even though I did protest and try to protect my friend. When Master Michael came rushing out the house and explained to Master Thomson about me... well, I also received 7 lashes for speaking to Master Thomson in the manner I did, as well as for deceiving him... Like that was my fault. After that it was saver for everyone to stay clear of me, some even blamed me for what happened to George. Even among my own people I was an outcast. I didn’t belong and I had no friends. My parents were the only one’s who spoke to me.

I remember evenings were spent, singing and clapping, playing music on self-made drums. Voodoo was a familiar topic and practice, even though I personally had no dealing with it. My parents often spoke about such things but it held no interest for me as a child so I would sneak off on my own down to the river’s edge where I made the soap. With no one around that time of night, left over pieces of the soap and the river to my disposal. I spent most nights swimming and bathing alone before going to bed. At night by moonlight, this was my favorite place.

My childhood life was pretty uneventful up until my sixteenth birthday.

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