Hey there yall'. I bet yall all know of a special gift that you got since youz were born. I aint talkin' bout a toy car or a barbie but a gift that god gave youz. My name is Valeria Pates. Born and raised in Atanlta, Georgia and I knew it right away since I was born I was destined to be a poet. It aint easy to make yo' wish when your a SLAVE. Yes people I was wipe, sold like an animal, discriminated and you know the rest. My life was just like walkin' in hell since the day I was born,my dad died of a whiping and my momma died when I was just 9 months. She was found dead in the cornfields, the people say that too much sun can kill. My ol' master Paul Jackson took charge of me since.
By the age of 10 instead of goin' to sko' i would wake up at 4 o' clock in the morning to wash clothes but not in the washing machines like you Young folks d
o it now at days, but i would walk a mile with buckets full off clothes to the river, and wash in hand. My hands were always rough and ashy from washing 75pounds of clothes. I would also break big o' rocks so the men can use them to make a building. At the age of 16 the master bought an ol man in Mississippi to help out in the house like i did. His name was Mr. Jones. Oh' was he a sweet o' man he would treat me like his daughter. For the very first time i felt loved and valuable, he would cook for me, he taught me how to read and right, he would always put me to bed and read me a story. How i love feeling like that. He cared so much of me that he would take a wiping for me. One day i had spilled hot chocolate in the new counter the master had bought. i could feel my blood came rising up to my throat that i taught i was gonna choke that's how scared i was when the master found out about my mistake. Just as i taught , the master came yelling at me, "YOU STUPID BLACK THING YOU ARE WORTH NOTHING COMPARED TO MEE COUNTER." as he continued to humiliate me he burned half of my face
in the fire that was near. i remember him saying "HOPE YOU BURN IN HELL." Mr Jones heard my horrifying cries and came to the rescue. He had push the master in the fire and carried me to the tub full of water so my face could heel. Thee master just had his leg amputated but still had enough force to tie up Mr.Jones in a tree and whip him til' he fainted and his shirt riped in small pieces. He was the devil i tell ya'.
o it now at days, but i would walk a mile with buckets full off clothes to the river, and wash in hand. My hands were always rough and ashy from washing 75pounds of clothes. I would also break big o' rocks so the men can use them to make a building. At the age of 16 the master bought an ol man in Mississippi to help out in the house like i did. His name was Mr. Jones. Oh' was he a sweet o' man he would treat me like his daughter. For the very first time i felt loved and valuable, he would cook for me, he taught me how to read and right, he would always put me to bed and read me a story. How i love feeling like that. He cared so much of me that he would take a wiping for me. One day i had spilled hot chocolate in the new counter the master had bought. i could feel my blood came rising up to my throat that i taught i was gonna choke that's how scared i was when the master found out about my mistake. Just as i taught , the master came yelling at me, "YOU STUPID BLACK THING YOU ARE WORTH NOTHING COMPARED TO MEE COUNTER." as he continued to humiliate me he burned half of my face
in the fire that was near. i remember him saying "HOPE YOU BURN IN HELL." Mr Jones heard my horrifying cries and came to the rescue. He had push the master in the fire and carried me to the tub full of water so my face could heel. Thee master just had his leg amputated but still had enough force to tie up Mr.Jones in a tree and whip him til' he fainted and his shirt riped in small pieces. He was the devil i tell ya'. I grew up hating all white people and being angry with the world. All my life i wondered if my luck would change, and i would become a famous poet sum day. My illusions of becoming a poet were decreasing as i grew older. But still i had two notebooks full of poems, full of hate. i had so much inside of me that i knew by writing poems i took out all my anger. Mr. Jones inspired me all the time, he would put my hopes up. He told me that one day we will be free. But i never saw it coming but one day i had the courage to escape and go to Canada in the underground railroad. Our Master had took us to Mississippi to sell us because we were getting to old for him i was 45 and Mr.Jones was 70. When we were taking a break and the master was asleep
p we took off to the entrance to the railroad lead by a kind man named Harriet Tubman. Luckily i made it threw but not Mr. Jones. When i saw Canada i was like WHOA !! it was alot different than Atlanta. It was really cold and i started working as a babysitter and then meet one of the kids momma and she discovered my talent as a poet and i finally became what i always wondered to be. That wonder now became a wish come true.
p we took off to the entrance to the railroad lead by a kind man named Harriet Tubman. Luckily i made it threw but not Mr. Jones. When i saw Canada i was like WHOA !! it was alot different than Atlanta. It was really cold and i started working as a babysitter and then meet one of the kids momma and she discovered my talent as a poet and i finally became what i always wondered to be. That wonder now became a wish come true.
3 comments:
i like ur story and the fact that Valeria didnt gave up on her dreams of becomin a poet. i could really imagine how she felt once she was free n in Canada. You did made me feel angry at the master for havin burned Valeria's face though.
good story I thnik good
Oh my god viry,your story sounds like so realistics. i like how you wrote it, like the kind of language you used, its english but different. anyways, i think your story was good, it has actions and everything lol. well nice story
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