My name is Ruth. I don't know how old I am, but I think I am around eleven years old. I live on a plantation where I work for my master all day, everyday.

I do chores with Mama all day and sleep in the big house at night. We cook, clean, and look after Master's children. Papa works as a carpenter on the plantation. Because I live in the big house, I am one of the lucky ones. The slaves that have to pick cotton don't get as much food, clothing, or shelter.

One day, while Mama was cooking dinner for Master and his family and I was cleaning, Nancy, another house slave, came over to us and started talking to Mama in hushed tones. I could only pick up pieces of their conversation. "Master Davis....selling children..."

The plate I was cleaning crashed to the floor. They both looked at me with horror on their faces.

Mrs. Davis suddenly walked in.

"What is going on here?", she demanded. We were all silent. Her eyes drifted to the broken plate on the floor. Her stare hardened on me, standing over the tub of water next to the remaining dishes. She grabbed my arm and started pulling me away. My mother reached after me, but we both knew there was nothing she could do.

As the lash of the whip dug into my skin, the only thing I could think about was that I could soon be sent away. When the whipping stopped, I was sent back to work. That night, Mama didn't follow me to the small room that we shared with the other slaves. Her mat lay empty next to mine. I stared into the darkness and listened to the steady breathing of everyone around me.