My home for so many years was a cotton plantation. I have a few good memories of my life in South Carolina. The terror of what us slaves endured was just unbearable. My master was a cruel man. He had a funny-looking beard and he was very tall. His hair always reminded me of carrots that had just been pulled out of the ground and he talked like a rough old man even though he looked young. When I was a child, some of my friends and I would mimic the way he walked and talked.  I think Mistress Ana would’ve been a nice woman, but Master’s constant lies drove her to be bitter. When I was younger, she would sometimes give us treats but Master would yell at her when he found out so she stopped doing that. She even gave me a hug once, but that all changed when she found out about the Master and Claire. Mistress Ana would always be crying when little Samuel was born. His blue eyes was enough proof to Mistress Ana about who the father was, not to mention his light skin was a dead giveaway. We all noticed how the Master would look at Claire, Samuel’s mother, and the Mistress noticed to. Claire was probably the prettiest slave on the plantation and was envied by most of the girls her age. Her beautiful smile could brighten up anyone’s day. I even caught myself on numerous occasions staring at her. She had the beauty of a goddess. I make no exaggeration on how I describe her. Every man on the plantation wanted her, but the Master claimed her and made sure no one else did. The Mistress did suspect but every time she asked one of us we just said we didn't know. Once the Mistress even came up to me when I was alone and asked if there was something between Claire and the Master, but I was afraid the Master would find out I was the one who told her, but I liked Mistress Ana, so all I said was, “I not sure but I thank so.” I was lucky the Mistress didn't tell Master it was me who told her because that night all you could hear was them arguing and Mistress Ana kept yelling, “Sell them both, I don’t want them here!” I’m not sure how old I was around that time but I think I was around five. After that night, Mistress Ana wasn't very nice to any of us. Her eyes were always red and puffy and most of the time she had black bags under her eyes. For some time, she even stopped eating. She rejected the Masters touch. I recall once when I was real hungry and crying the Mistress slipped me a slice of fresh bread but that was the last kind thing she did for me.
I didn't know who my parents were. I still don’t know. But I will say this, Miss Sally was like a mother to me. Miss Sally was an old woman with gray hair and most of the time had long nails. Her ability to tell a story was a marvelous thing. She would tell me stories of talking animals and princess’. She was the one who told me about my parents. She explained to me that my parents were sold at an auction and I was kept to stay here. Apparently, she even knew them and she would always say, “Christopher you look just like your momma but you be acting just like your daddy,” then she would chuckle until she was coughing.  I was just a toddler when I started working in the fields. Miss Sally said that, that was when she started to look after me. She would make sure I did everything correctly so I wouldn't get whipped. I had to pick the cotton during the early winter and plant them after. One year my hands were so cut up, the Master had to give me another job to do because he didn’t want my blood spilling on the cotton. Miss Sally’s  own parents had been sold when she was around ten or eleven. She told me she never wanted kids of her own for the fear of being separated. Her parents were house slaves. Her father would watch the Master’s children when they were doing their studies so he eventually learned a few things too. They taught her how to talk better and even how to read and write. Miss Sally taught me everything she knows. How to eat properly, how to read and write, how to talk properly, etc. I still talked like the other slaves did because they’d look at me funny when I talked like the white folks. Miss Sally would get mad when she’d hear me talk like that. She’d say,”Christopher I did not waste my time teaching you how to talk right for you to talk like you stupid.” but she’d only tell me this when we were alone because slaves weren’t allowed to learn things. If you got caught trying to read or write, you’d be killed. It happened once and the Master never let us forget that it did. Miss Sally was half my family and I loved her like a mother.
During the winter it was always so cold. My feet would always be bleeding because I didn't have any shoes. Miss Sally would try her best to patch them up, but she was getting too old for things like that. Her tiny brown hands would be trembling the whole time while she bandaged my foot. Oh she would try her best though because the Master didn’t care if you were sick or had a broken leg, you were going to go do work or get whipped badly if you didn’t. Miss Sally hardly went to pick cotton anymore. She would wash the white folks clothes and hang them to dry but if she finished that early then she would have to go pick cotton or harvest it with the rest of us. She wasn't able to eat the hard, stale bread they gave us so she would just eat the soggy vegetables and she’d give half to me and half to Samuel.
One day when I was around 17 or 18, I was picking cotton and all of a sudden I heard my name being called in a distance. I turned to see who was calling me and I see Samuel running towards me. I realized something was wrong when I saw tears rolling down his cheeks. The overseer watched us talk with his black vulture eyes while we talked.

Samuel started saying, “Christopher! Miss Sally hurt. The Massa beat her for not working fass enough. She asing for you. Massa says you can come clean her up.”

His ocean blue eyes were filled with tears and his nose was so red from what I assume was from crying so much. The overseer told me, ”Go on boy.” I wiped the sweat off my forehead and ran to the cabin Samuel told me she was in. I heard, “Christopher Christopher,” and went to the broken bed Miss Sally was laying on. She had blood running down her face and her right eye was swollen shut.
“Hey Christopher, why you look all worried,” she whispered, trying make a joke out of a serious situation. I started crying and said, “You got beat why you think I’m worrying.” She leaned over to me and said, “You a smart boy, you can escape here. Don’t end up like me.”

“What do you mean end up like you? You’ll get better,” I whispered to her.

She told me,”Imma die, what else you think I’m talking about? My old body can’t take no beatings anymore.”
Even on her death bed, she still tell it to me like it is. She never sugar-coated anything.

“You can’t leave me here by myself. You not going to die ok,” I shouted at her.

“Oh Christopher, but I am. A person knows when they dying and I know I’m dying. Watch over Samuel, he needs you. You both like brothers and he and you both don’t got no family except each other. Leave this place and go to the North. You can’t die a slave, but if you leave you better take Samuel with you. Don’t leave him here to be alone and only known as the Master’s bastard.”

I had heard stories of slaves that ran away to the North, but I had never thought of running away. I told her, “I will try for you.” She sang a lullaby and kissed me on my cheek. She looked relieved during her last few minutes of life. Then her brown eyes looked away and she died.
Some of the other boys and I went to bury Miss Sally. The Master yelled at us the whole time saying, "Hurry up! No praying, just bury her and go back to work." I always remembered those insensitive words. Samuel had insisted on helping dig the hole, but we said no because he'd take too long. Also, because the Master would get in an even harsher mood when Samuel was around even though he was his son. Every time the Master would yell or hit Samuel, Mistress Ana would have an evil smirk on her face. Oh but the Master would hate it when the Mistress tried to shout at Samuel. One time when Samuel was about eight years old, he had accidentally dropped a glass plate and oh you should've seen the Mistress' face. She did not hide her fury with him. She grabbed him by the ear, dragged him outside and started smacking his face and kicking him yelling, “You bastard! Look what you did. I ought of kill you,” He was trying not to cry at first but he couldn't control himself and then he did most stupidest thing he could've done. He started yelling, "Fader! Fader! Fader!" The master ran up to them and it looked like he would've killed Mistress Ana. He separated them and said, "What is going on?" Mistress Ana explained what had happened while Samuel wiped away his tears. The Master dismissed him and at that moment it looked like the Master actually cared for Samuel. When he was done screaming at the mistress, he went and told Samuel, "Don't you ever do that again." That was probably the most luckiest day of poor Samuel’s life. Of course when Samuel got older, he resented his father. He would do little things to mess with the Master. He would misplace the Master’s shoes or move his whip from one side of the shed to another. I’d tell him he was crazy and just asking to get whipped.

All Samuel say is,”I want him to whip me.”
I asked, “Why?”

He said,” ’Cause if he whip me, I can have a real reason to hate him.”

Samuel often talked about wanting to get sold away so he'd never have to see Master again. I felt sorry for the boy but there was nothing I could do for him.
That Sunday we had a funeral for Miss Sally. Most of us tried to look nice, but we didn't have much so we did what we could. We sang songs, prayed, and cried for her. I weeped through the whole day. I just couldn't stop crying.
The next couple of weeks were a blur. I was so used to hearing the sound of Miss Sally's raspy voice telling me stories as I would fall asleep. I couldn't think of anything much after she died. I cried in my sleep and whenever someone tried to talk to me, I ignored them. Samuel was the only one who could relate the most to me. I only spoke to Samuel. Miss Sally was like family to him too. After Claire was sold away, Miss Sally and I would watch over Samuel. He was a brother to me. The three of us were a weird version of a family.
One night I woke up to two voices whispering outside the cabin. They were both male voices and I couldn't hear exactly what they were saying but once I heard, "We're going to leave tonight," I was fully awake. I thought how foolish were they. If I could hear them, then surely others did too. I crept out of the bed and snuck up behind them. I said, "Let me go with you or I'll tell the Master." They both looked terrified but they agreed to let me come. All of a sudden I thought about Samuel. I had to take him with me. I couldn't leave him behind. I told the men to wait and snuck back into the cabin. I shook Samuel and said, "Get your shoes on, we're leaving." He looked bewildered but did as I said. I led him back to the men that we'd be making the journey with. Samuel’s eyes were filled with pure terror as we left the plantation. I kept reassuring him we'd be alright.
“Well my name is Darrius and that’s my brother, his name Clint. What’s yous names?” the man with the torn-up shirt said.

“This is Samuel and I’m Christopher,” I said.

“Wait Samuel? You men Massa’s son,” he asked.

I tell him “Yes why you ask?”

Darrius stopped walking and said,“We can’t take him. He need to go back!”
“What you mean he need to go back? He’s coming with us,” I whispered to him.
“The Massa will surely send people afer us,” Darrius explained to me,  “if he fine out his son missin.”

“He comin anyways or I’ll just go back and tell Master you two running away,” I said.
“Fine he come, but he better not cause any trouble,” Darrius whispered.
We ran until we could run no more. Every time we heard even the smallest of noises,  we jumped. We tried not to step on sticks or crunchy leaves. Darrius explained where we were going. They had heard rumors of something called the Underground Railroad. Apparently it would help us get to the North. At the time I thought it was funny to even believe in something like that because railroads being underground sounded impossible. My stomach constantly growled for food. There was nothing to eat and if there was I would've given it to Samuel. Samuel and I slept right next to each other and tried to get warmth from each other's body during the freezing nights. I honestly didn't care if I died. I just wanted Samuel to make it to the land of the free.
For three days we didn't eat or sleep. Finally on the fourth day we slept but there was still nothing to eat. My stomach felt shriveled up. None of us ever complained about being hungry. We were able to fill our stomachs with water from the streams. The stream of water is the only thing that kept us alive for the first couple of days. On the sixth day, Clint found a bush of berries and we devoured them all. My belly was finally satisfied. The purple juice from the berries stained our skin for the next couple of days.
Darrius in my opinion was the smart one in the group. He knew how to go north. He would say, "All we have to do is follow da North Star and feel da moss growing on da trees." One night Samuel and I had a conversation that I still remember to this day. He said,"Christopher you think Massa actually love me an ma mom?" I told him, " I don't know if he loved your mom but I think he did love you. You was his only son and you saw how he would get mad at the mistress if she was mean to you." Samuel started to close his weary eyes and said, "I wonder if he'll miss me as hes son or as hes slave." Then Samuel fell asleep. I watched over him that night in fear that the Master had sent someone to take us back to the plantation. I stared at the North Star in hopes that it would indeed take us to the North.
The next morning, Darrius guided us to some white folks house. He said, "My friend had tried to escape once but failed and he told me that this man would help us."

"You crazy if you think some white man will help us!" I told Darrius.

He knocked at the big brown wooden door and some man yelled out, "Who is it?"

All Darrius said was, "A friend of a friend," and the man opened the door and examined us.

"Only four ehh, not so bad. Come on in," the white man said.
We walked into his house and followed him through to the kitchen. His walls were filled with photos of who I assumed was his family. He told us not to be scared. "Now you all must be hungry ehh?" the white man said as he served us eggs with orange juice. I had never eaten so much before. It tasted delicious and then the white man gave us instructions on where to go next. We stayed at his house that night, hidden in some room behind a bookcase.
A woman named Mary let us out of the room in the morning. She said, "I'll be guiding you to the North. You aren't that far you know." She told us the whole plan. We'd hide in a hidden compartment in her carriage as she rode to the North. It seemed very easy but I was still terrified as we got in the carriage. Samuel and I layed on our backs while Darrius and Clint were on their sides  against the small compartment walls. It was all very quick and sudden. It was so hot and I was sure we might die from the heat. The compartment started to stink right away. We hardly washed ourselves at the plantation. Not because we didn't want to, but because we couldn't unless the Master allowed us to and even then there wasn't always soap. I tried not to gag but the pungent smell was just too much for me.
The carriage ride was smooth except for every bump here and there. Samuel and I made small talk every once in a while. Every time I would look at Samuel, his face looked queasy. I was scared we'd be caught then sent back to the south. We'd probably be whipped and branded. Maybe we'd even die. I turned my head and said to Samuel, "If we get caught don't go down without a fight. We can't go back. The Massa will beat us to death. You need to be free and if I get caught just keep going witout me. It what Miss Sally would want." I didn't feel shy to say those things to Samuel even though Darrius and Clint were there. All they did was sleep. Samuel told me, "We can both make it dere. Don't talk like dat. Remember we brothers no matter wat." I can still remember him telling me that. He grew up so quick. His face was no longer a child's face, it was a face that had experienced the worst.
During the third night in the small compartment, I tried to wake Samuel up but his body just lied there. "Samuel , Samuel wake up," I whispered to him. I shook him but I got no response. I assume it was the heat and lack of food and water that killed him. Once I realized he was dead, I started screaming and pounding on the top of the compartment. Clint and Darrius woke up and kept telling me to calm down but I couldn't. Finally Mary opened the small door and asked, "What's going on?" I told her what had happened and she told me she was sorry then said, "We'll throw his body in a ditch and keep riding." I screamed and cried as they pried his dead body away from me. I didn't care if some outsider heard me. Shoot if I was sent back to the South, I wouldn’t go down without a fight. His sweet light-skinned face was the last thing I saw before I fell into oblivion. I woke to Mary's voice calling my name. She told me, "I'm real sorry about your friend back there, but I couldn't take his dead body to the North, it would've started to rot and stink. Oh yeah, we made it to the North." Darrius and Clint were no where to be found. Mary explained to me that I shouldn't trust anyone or tell them anything of my past because even though I was in a free state I’m considered a fugitive. She told me the best option I had was going to Canada. She gave me fresh new clothes that had to be expensive because I remembered seeing the Master wearing clothes like that. When I was done cleaning myself, she handed me a suitcase of things I'd need and said, "Welcome to Pennsylvania." 
That was the last time I ever saw her. I never saw Clint or Darrius afterwards either. I assumed they left to begin their lives. I didn't go to Canada. I stayed in America because even though this country treated me like dirt, it was still my home. My first week in the free state I lived in constant fear that someone would try to send me back to the south. Luckily Mary had given me nice clothes that made me look like I had money. She even gave me six dollars before she left. I blended in with every other black man that was born in Pennsylvania. It’s funny how sometimes things just worked out. No one questioned if I had ever been a slave because I didn’t speak like slaves did and I had etiquette that average slaves didn’t. It wasn't all easy as it might've seemed. Some people were extremely rude and had no like to me because of the color of my skin.
The nightmares were no help either. Bloody cut up backs and the screams of the other slaves being whipped cursed my dreams every night. I would constantly wonder if Samuel would still be alive if I had never woken up that night and heard Darrius and Clint’s whispers. But one night I had a dream of Miss Sally and Samuel. It was a comfort to see their faces even if only in a dream because I knew I’d never see their faces again. I had no photo of either of them but their faces were forever etched in my mind. I told my story to abolitionists a few years later and they would write it all in their anti-slavery newspapers. I knew I would be sent back to the south if someone turned me in. I was an escaped slave but I took the risk because people needed to know the truth behind slavery. I moved from state to state to be sure I was not trying to be caught. Some places hired me to be a handyman because I was extremely good with a hammer and some nails. I made my way back to Pennsylvania and started renting a place for me. I never had that feeling of being safe until after the civil war. That was forty years ago but I can still remember that continuous feeling of uncertainty.
I cannot describe to you what it felt like to witness your family dying. Most of my sorrow had stopped once I had my children. Olivia’s my oldest, Olivia Sally Polm. She can sing so beautifully, but has no filter on that mouth. She be running her mouth like there’s no tomorrow. Giving her opinion like she grown. My second child is Samuel, Samuel Christopher Polm. He always act shy and don’t talk nearly as much as Olivia. Now that he grown, he real tall. Taller than Olivia and Darrius. Plus he’s really smart, smarter than I ever was. My youngest be Darrius, Darrius Clint Polm. His skin be darker than Olivia and Sammy’s. His mouth and Olivia’s must be twins ‘cause he talk as much as her. He does whatever she tell him to do though. When they got older, I told them stories of what it was like on that plantation. Olivia giggle every time I tell her stories ‘bout Miss Sally. I tell them the stories of who they were named after because without Miss Sally, Samuel, Darrius, and Clint I would never be where I am now and that’s a debt I can never repay. The only thing I can do is make sure they're never forgotten.