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The Iron Phoenix of Mississippi: I Am Who That I Am
"I, young in life, by seeming cruel fate Was snatched from Afric's fancy'd happy seat."
Phyllis Wheatley
🌍
A #WRITCO Inspiration
🌈 📚
I DID NOT
CHOOSE
THIS LIFE
⚒️🔨
"You keep your head down and keep swinging that hammer, girl," Mr. Jenkins said, his eyes darting between me and the metal. His words echoed in the dimly lit blacksmith shop, the smell of burning coal and iron filling my nostrils. The fiery glow of the forge reflected off his sweaty brow as he taught me to mold the hot metal into shape.
I nodded, gripping the hammer tightly, feeling the weight of it in my small, calloused hands. He was a good man, Mr. Jenkins, took me in when I had nowhere else to go. But his goodness had a price, one I paid with more than just my labor.
(FLASHBACK)
The night had the stench of fear and sweat. I lay in the dirt, barely a child, as the boots of the overseer and his men surrounded me. My heart hammered in my chest like a wild bird trapped in a cage. The master's cruel laughter sliced through the air as he leered down, the flickering candlelight playing shadows across his twisted face. "Tonight, you become a woman," he sneered, and I knew what was to come. Their hands, rough as the rope that bound me, tore at my clothes, leaving me naked and trembling. I screamed, but my voice was lost in the darkness, muffled by their vile...
Phyllis Wheatley
🌍
A #WRITCO Inspiration
🌈 📚
I DID NOT
CHOOSE
THIS LIFE
⚒️🔨
"You keep your head down and keep swinging that hammer, girl," Mr. Jenkins said, his eyes darting between me and the metal. His words echoed in the dimly lit blacksmith shop, the smell of burning coal and iron filling my nostrils. The fiery glow of the forge reflected off his sweaty brow as he taught me to mold the hot metal into shape.
I nodded, gripping the hammer tightly, feeling the weight of it in my small, calloused hands. He was a good man, Mr. Jenkins, took me in when I had nowhere else to go. But his goodness had a price, one I paid with more than just my labor.
(FLASHBACK)
The night had the stench of fear and sweat. I lay in the dirt, barely a child, as the boots of the overseer and his men surrounded me. My heart hammered in my chest like a wild bird trapped in a cage. The master's cruel laughter sliced through the air as he leered down, the flickering candlelight playing shadows across his twisted face. "Tonight, you become a woman," he sneered, and I knew what was to come. Their hands, rough as the rope that bound me, tore at my clothes, leaving me naked and trembling. I screamed, but my voice was lost in the darkness, muffled by their vile...
