The Mind As A Slave

  • by
  • Rating:
  • Published: 12 Feb 2018
  • Updated: 22 Feb 2018
  • Status: Complete
All my life, I've been a slave since I was fifteen.
Then, age fifty, and I'm still livin' the same life.

Now, age ninety, and I'm able to tell my story.
This is my mind as a slavery.

A story for Black History Month.
I dedicate this story to my father. Love you, Daddy!


7. The Beginning/Beck

I'm on my way up north. 
People know that if you in the south, you is a slave
unless you have a paper that says that you are legally not one.

How I became a slave, someone had put a cloth to my mouth
and I inhaled whatever was on it.
Then I passed out.

I woke up in a whole 'nother place, not knowing where the hell I was.
Named me Beck.
But my name ain't no Beck.
It's Reghina.
Reghina Willis, married to Lamar Jackson Willis Jr.

What the hell is Beck?
It ain't short for no Rebecca.
'Cause then I'd be Becca.

But my name was Beck.
And Beck was my name.

I cried for my chilren.
I cried for my husband.

The other slaves tried to tell me to be quiet.
"Quit it, Beck!" They said.
"You gone get us all in trouble, you hear?"
But I didn't care.
I wanted my chilren.
I wanted my husband.

They beat me to shut my mouth.
They say,

"You ain't got no chilren, Beck!
You just a nigger.
A slave.
A negro whore.
Now you gone shut yo damn mouth,
or we'll whip you 'till you we see yo spine stickin' out."
Then they laugh.

"What's yo name, slave?"
They would ask.
I'd hold my head high and said,

"My name is Reghina Willis." 
They would look at one 'nother and laugh.
Then my slave owner would lift his hand up and slap me so hard,
I'd fall to the ground.

He'd get in my face and said,
"Now I'm gone ask you again.
And you gone answer it right, you nigger.
What is yo name?"

I'd look up glarin' at him and shout,
"My name is Reghina Willis!" 

He'd grit his teeth at me and spit in my face.
Then he'd drag me to the pole and tie my hands,
ripping my shirt, exposing my scarred back and my chest.

He would grab his whip and whip it in the air.

"What the fuck is yo name, slave?"
I'd look up at the sky, tears at the brim of my eyes.

"O', Lord!" I shout.
"Please rid me from this hell!"

The whip made contact to my back, 
causing me to holler in pain and the other fellow women wince in pain and fear.

But I'm not Beck.
I'm Reghina.
Reghina Willis.



This chapter was very detailed. I did use the "N" word more than once. I'm not being racist for I am black. Please, if you are new reading this book and you are at this part, please and I'm begging you, not to report my story or me. I'm not doing this as a joke or anything in a rude, hurtful way. Because it's Black History Month, I thought I would do a slave book. This story really means a lot to me with the background and everything. I'm just begging you would understand. If you are not liking the story, that is completely okay and you don't have to continue reading it. I'm just asking for you to not report me or my story. Thank you for understanding.


Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...