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Slave Girl-Personal Narrative

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I am Enzai, and I left my family. I wanted to get them back, free them like me. Travelling back to that horrid plantation where we slaved to make cash crops for those people disgusted me. But I think that if I did not go and help my family, I would have been destroyed. Guilt would have overcome me and I would never be happy again. Would you like to know my story? I was running down the plantation to my family. I had just left the slave house, a tiny cramped place we were jammed in by our owners. My family glanced over to me and shook their heads. What was going on? I pondered. Shanai started running. Bam! A gunshot echoed through the plantation. My mother screamed and wailed. My father looked away from Shanai's bleeding body. And me? I didn't…show more content…
When did it get so damn cold? "Well, I've got to go watch over my bunch. They are ferocious today," someone said.

Mom was being sold? They had already killed Dad and Shanai. Now they were taking her further. Must I leave Georgia? Yes. I have to. I jumped onto a cart as it was leaving for north Massachusetts. I hope I make it in time. I began to doze off. Soon it'll be alright. I fell asleep. When I woke, two white males were staring at me. They seemed to have figured out what had happened. There was a gun pointed at my head. Shoot! I shouldn't have fallen asleep. "What's happening there? " a stranger asked. "Nothing much. Just some slave trying to run away. How much do you think he's worth?" the man with the gun questioned, turning his head. I darted the second he turned his head. I could not waste time anymore. I had to go. Just as I was safe, a wagon pulled up. My mom flashed in front of my eyes, chained in the back. She gave me a pleading look, as if to say, "Get the hell out of here!!!" Driven with horror, I scurried away. A sudden gush of culpability flowed within me. I stopped. What am I doing? I came here to help
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I hadn't noticed earlier, but the layout of this place was quite different. It was very cold, and there were little to no crops. The land was not flat and gently like Georgia; instead it was full of bumps and rocks. The buildings I had been using to stalk the wagon with my mother were everywhere! The ocean, about three miles away, was full of ships. Spears were being thrown into the water. I guess this place is strictly business and killing the creatures of the ocean. It didn't seem to have half as many slaves, which made me a little happier. Maybe they were treated better there. Regardless, I had to get my mother
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