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The Assisting Whip

  • Chadwick Ahn
  • Oct 4, 2017
  • 1 min read

Out in the fields, the sun hounded on the workers’ bare backs, drying up the fresh wounds of discipline. White men dressed lightly with generous hats, patrolled back and forth on horseback, occasionally cracking their whips as a reminder to both the slaves and themselves of the power that they possessed. Whack! Snap!

At the sound of the whip, a young slave, no older than 14, collapsed into the very batch he was picking. The other workers continued on, ignoring the depleted breaths of their fallen comrade.

Whack! Snap!

With one final gasp, the boy grew forever silent, as the sun began to evaporate the newly drawn blood on his peaceful back.

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