It was a bitterly cold winter day in 1860's February. The snow was falling in large flakes and the icy wind froze my face as I was in a hurry to Samuel. He was my only friend in the whole slave colony. Samuel was sick for about a week and I wanted to surprise and cheer him up with a little message I wrote him secretly.
Samuel was the person, who taught me the beautiful mystery of letters, words and led me into the magical world of written thoughts and expressions. And with that knowledge and skill I could be able to write down my feelings instead of destroy myself, and from then anxiety left my body. I became a completely different person than before.
Yet my life was the same... I was in slavery and when I thought about that, it always broke me...
Samuel told me that I had to accept my situation, but it wasn't that easy for me...
"SAMUEL!!" -- I slammed the door and ran to his bed as fast as I could. The doctor was sitting next to him and seemed worried.
"What's with him?" -- I turned to the white clothed man with fear in my voice.
In the building we didn't have a trained specialist as a doctor. He was a slave like us, he just had a bit more experience in the job. Samuel had pneumonia, but we couldn't do anything. There wasn't any cure for such disease.
"His condition is getting worse. I don't know how much time he had left... probably hours... or minutes..." -- the doctor responded.
"Then I'm gonna stay with him until the time comes..."-- I said and pulled out a chair to sit next to Samuel. He looked at me and I could see the pain and suffering in his eyes. That hurt me...
The doctor left us alone.
I went quiet... couldn't find words... I think it was better that way...
Maybe ten minutes later Samuel broke the silence:
"I have to go..."
"Where?" -- I asked.
"God sets me free finally!"
"No, no, no, wait!" -- I cried, as if I could do anything, but he didn't speak anymore... his head rested on the pillow and the muscles in his body were relaxed.
"I wasn't ready..." I whispered with a hushed voice.
He hasn't even read my message...
~~Written for Real Poetic's Secret Writer Challenge~~
About the Creator
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also pledge your support or give them a one-off tip, letting them know you appreciate their work.
I First Saw Him
When I first saw him sitting on the wall, relaxed and looking out over the water, I was sure he wasn't a local. Not including children, there are only about 250 or 300 of us in this area full-time, though that number is ten-fold in the summer, and I know everyone at least by sight or by family resemblance. And yet, the way he sat looked familiar and started my mind sorting and discarding among the families I knew, not quite like this one, not quite like that one.
By Natalie Wilkinson7 days ago in Fiction
The Puppet Master
Detective Alex Turner was a man of routine. His days were a methodical dance of crime scenes, interrogation rooms, and endless paperwork. But the rhythm of his world was shattered with the murder of a seemingly random woman found in her upscale apartment. The scene was clean, almost clinical, save for the single, chilling detail: a porcelain doll clutched in the victim's lifeless hand.
By Khalid laakiki3 days ago in Fiction
Comments (5)
Ugh! So heartbreaking, makes you wonder how easy it was to die back then. Loved your entry!
What a sad story. What a wonderful setting. You have a talent for worldbuilding and interesting character stories.
Omggg, Anna!!! This was so devastating 😭😭😭😭😭
Lovely and heartbreaking!
very suspenseful! love it :)