My name is Faye Charity Ashwood, and I was born on January 20th, 1832. I helped almost 35 slaves escape before I died on May 2nd, 1862. This is my story.
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The blazing sun glittered on the cobblestones as I made my way toward the plantation. Sheep happily grazed on the other side of the wooden makeshift fence. It was early in the afternoon, and I was sure that my boss was waiting. I had a job as a teacher to a plantation owner's grandson, and it was critical that I be there early. Soon, after about 30 minutes, the vast plantation came into view. Its great reddish-brown walls mixed perfectly with the snow white doors and window panes. Lush green ferns and trees surrounded the outside. I trotted up to the door and gently knocked 3 times. Soon, she opened the door.
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"Oh, hello!" she said, pulling me into a lung-crushing embrace. She was a very sweet lady in her mid-40's and she was ALWAYS excited.
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"Excuse me for asking," I said in a wheezy voice. "But what is your name again?" She finally let go, and I stumbled backwards trying to catch some breath.
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"Amanda Gold!" Her gray hair and green eyes matched her mood SO well…
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"May I come in?" I asked politely.
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"Yes. Would you like a glass of ice water?"
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"No, thank you." I said as I walked wearily into the sitting room. The couches were an ugly green, and the tables were glossy with ivy designs on the sides and legs.
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"Oh, please. Your 29-year-old body needs it!"
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"Fine…just because you asked." She skipped, literally, into the kitchen. I sat down, sighing deeply as I did so. "I wish I had this house…" I thought longingly. I owned a simple blue-and-white house near Fort Sumter.
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"Here's your water!" she came back with a silver platter with a gigantic pitcher of water on it. The droplets on the pitcher were enough to make me REALLY thirsty….
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"Thank you. Where's little Christopher?" Amanda's face lit up at the mention of her grandson.
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"Oh, he's outside playing by the river! He turned 9 last week!" I looked up in surprise, my drink raining over the edges of the cup.
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"He did?"
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"Yes, he was SO excited about it!" This lady was the happiest person on this planet. I didn't think that a person would be so ecstatic about their child turning another year older!
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"Well, let's see the birthday boy!" I said with as much excitement as I could muster.
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"Christopheerr," Amanda called in an annoying sing-song voice. "Ms. Ashwood's here!" I could hear the back door slam and the clicking of his heels as he ran down the hall.
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"Yes, Grandma?"
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"Ms. Ashwood's here!" He ran over to me, touching my leather bag full of learning materials.
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"What are we doing today?" he asked.
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"We're gonna continue learning how to spell our words." Amanda jumped up, saying as she did so,
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"I'll just leave you two to your business!"
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"Finally!" I thought in relief. "Christopher, let's go where there's more light."
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"Okay!" I lead him outside, the sweet spring air filling my nose. Christopher sat down on the bottom step, moving his stiff collar.
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"So, do you remember any words from our last session?" I inquired as I clasped my hands together on my lap.
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"I remember how to spell 'cat'!" He looked up at me with green, gold-flecked eyes. They sparkled with innocence and intelligence. His sandy blonde hair fell into his eyes, blocking them and his forehead from view. I reached down and gently pushed it to the side.
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"There," I said. "Much better."
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"Can I spell it now, Ms. Ashwood?"
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"Yes." I handed him a small chalkboard, and he started to write. The dust floated in the shafts of light breaking through the leaves above.
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"C-A-T. Cat!" He said proudly.
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"Good job! Do you remember anything else?"
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"No, ma'am."
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"Okay. Well…." After about 40 minutes, I had taught Christopher 10 new words. "Spell 'plantation'." I said.
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"It's too hard!"
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"You'll get a coin if you spell it right!" I persuaded in a high-pitched sing-song voice.
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"Okay." He was on the letter 'n' when I heard an ear-splitting scream come from around the corner. Christopher didn't hear.
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"Christopher, keep going. I'll be right back." I quickly got up, holding onto my dress as I sprinted around the corner. I immediately saw the source of the scream was. Amanda was hitting a slave with a long black whip. The whip made a horrible sound as it struck flesh. The slave was a girl, and she was screaming in pain.
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"I TOLD YOU NOT TO LISTEN TO CHRISTOPHER SPELL!" Amanda yelled in anger. Dark red blood started to seep through the white shirt, like paint spilled onto an unmarked canvas. The screams just kept getting louder. I was pretty much mortified. I quickly turned back around and sat back down on the bottom step, about to be sick. The scene I had just witnessed was permanently burned into my retinas.
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"There!" said Christopher in a loud voice. He had actually spelled the word right, but I wasn't paying any attention. "Ms. Ashwood, are you okay?" he said.
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"Yes….I suppose…." I replied in a winded voice.
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"I finished!" He held up the blackboard, the letters slanted sideways.
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"Wow, good job!" I said as enthusiastically as I could. "Here's your coin." I tossed it to him half-heartedly.
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"Gee, thanks!" He ran into the house, slamming the door behind him. I got up as soon as he was gone, clumsily gathering my things. I ran across the lawn and straight through the gate. I never looked back as I rushed down the road.
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I had quit work on February 1st, and today was April 12th. 39 days without a job! I was very frustrated because nobody wanted a 29-year-old to work for them! I buried my face deep into my satin pillow, suffocating me but I didn't care. I finally flipped over, the lack of oxygen overcoming me. The sun filtered through the blue-green window, casting a soft glow onto the wood floor. It was a cool spring day with many children frolicking outside, laughing and singing cheerfully.
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Suddenly, breaking through the bliss of the day, a thunderous booming sound filled the air. All of the children screamed in unison and ran into their mother's arms, who swiftly took them back to their home. I jumped up, almost falling flat onto my face. Holding onto my dress, I ran to the door and stuck my head outside. Smoke consumed everything and fires dotted the ground. It was coming from Fort Sumter! Stamping out the fires as I went, I jogged the 30 minute trip to Fort Sumter. What I saw was chaos: houses were just charred pieces of wood, and bullets were whizzing through the air. I hid behind a hill, my heart beating like a bird trapped in a cage. Fires were climbing in number, and men in blue and men in gray were locked in an all-out kill-or-be-killed combat. I gasped, a gasp of shock and surprise.
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"Why did a war come right out of the blue?" I thought. All the men in blue were using long glistening rifles, while the men in gray were using medium-sized pistols. About every 5 minutes, a soldier dropped to the ground. I was horrified, but I watched until the end. When it was finally over, both of the sides picked up their wounded and deceased. They drove off in wagons, scowling at each other until both were out of sight. I ran back home and
jumped onto my bed, my heart pumping wildly. I closed my eyes and thought about what I had just seen.
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The next day, the Fort Sumter Herald reported that a war had broken loose about slavery in the North & South. When my eyes met that article, I was immediately intrigued. It also mentioned that people called abolitionists, who wanted to abolish slavery and help slaves escape, were increasing in number all over the North & South. I was battling myself over whether or not to become one, but I knew that it was my only want. Hence, I became an abolitionist. The next night, I decided to go to Amanda's plantation first. I grabbed a lantern and left. I kept the light off while I was walking, so I wouldn't draw attention to myself. When I got there, I didn't hesitate as I headed straight for the slaves' quarters. I left with over 10 slaves with me.
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I continued to rescue slaves until November 30th, 1861. I kept one slave and her daughter, Kassandra and Isabella. One day, a farmer passed by and saw me playing with them in the river, and he reported it. I was arrested but then I escaped. I was then wanted for $10,000. I moved to the secluded area in the forest where my fall home was, an attempt to escape authority. Soon afterwards, they police found me and threatened to take Kassandra and Isabella if I didn't cooperate. I stood in the way, saying in a calm voice,
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"You can't do that." They shot me in the chest, and I fell to the ground. The last thing I heard were screams of terror. I died on May 2nd, 1862.
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