THE LIFE: CHAPTER ONE

                                                1754 - EMMA LUCILLE THORNE



                    I've never thought of myself as charismatic. You know, the kind of person with a compelling charm who desires everything good in life without any real responsibility. I grew up in a time where my race was not accepted in any social circle. A time of slaves and masters, house niggas and field niggas. A time when my people were bought and sold and treated as commodity. My name is Emma Lucille Thorne, and I was born March 19, 1754. Aahna Chipwan , my mother and an Indian of the Cheamacha tribe, planted her roots on the Southern Louisiana coast. My mother was only a baby, when her  family was sold into Louisiana slavery by the French in 1734. By then, most of the Cheamacha tribe had died out from the many diseases that struck plantation after plantation. By the time my mother reached womanhood, she was taken away from her family and everyone she knew, and she was sold to Master James Hagel Thorne, Esq., owner of Plantation Remplir la Vie, which is French for Life Fulfill.She did not speak of her family to me as much as I would have liked. She always told me I was too young to understand the ways of the world. I always knew mother missed her family. I could see the sadness in her eyes almost everyday. There were days, when she seemed almost childlike and full of life. Those were the days she was fetched by Master Thorne to work in the big house.
                    Master Thorne wasn't like the other slave masters. He did not allow slave beatings or senseless hangings. But, he was still a slave owner, and we were still his property, lest we forget it. Master was a man who enjoyed being around people, and regardless of what some may have thought, slaves were still people. Master did not allow his slaves to work in the rain because he said the rain was doing all of the work. When the sun was high, he would make sure the field workers had plenty of water and rest. Most slave owners did not care about the welfare of their slaves, but Master knew that a healthy slave meant better work and better increase. Slavery was never to be embraced, but if you were one, Master Thorne's plantation was definitely a cut above the rest.
                    This is the place where my mamma met my daddy, Benjamin. My daddy was from Africa. The only other thing I knew of his family was that they were sold into slavery to an Alabama plantation in 1719 and sold again in 1727 to this plantation. My daddy was born on this land, and he married my mamma when she was fifteen. I came along two years later, but I never knew my daddy. Mamma told me he was killed by Master Thorne, when I was still suckling. She didn't speak of Daddy much. I just assumed she was still grieving, but the truth of it all proved more unsettling.
                    When I was thirteen, I was fetched from the slave quarters to work as a cook and hand maid in the big house. My mother was ailing at the time and could no longer do the house and kitchen work. Master Thorne took pity on us and moved Mamma to into the attic of his mansion. It was there I was able to care for her until she died on January 2 1767. Momma's death seemed to please Master's wife, Kathleen Cobb- Thorne, very much. Kathleen was not the most pleasant person to be around. In fact, she was down right hateful and more vicious than could ever be imagined. She came from a well-to-do family, but not as wealthy as Master Thorne. She married up, and she took advantage of her new found wealth. She was a part of all the fancy social scenes, and she sat as high as she could on that self-made pedestal of hers. I would often catch her staring at me, as I went about my work cooking, cleaning, or tending to the vegetables and flowers in the gardens. Her skin was as pale as death itself. Her cold stares like ice daggers penetrating my soul, piercing the very core of me, causing me to become fearful of her every breath. She treated the other slaves more decent than she ever treated me and Mamma. She gave them clothes and allowed them to take as much food as they needed back to their families in the slave quarters. She treated me and Mamma with ridicule and disgust. Master Thorne was the one to make sure we were taken care of. His actions of kindness towards me and Mamma only made Miss Katherine more spiteful.
                    During the summer of 1769, Miss Katherine's attitude toward me began to change. I was confused by this until I over heard a conversation she was having with the elder house slave, Victoria. It was then I learned Miss Katherine was with child. Master Thorne was hardly ever home after he found out about his wife's condition. I thought his behavior was strange considering this was their first child, but Miss Katherine did not seem to mind. She carried about the mansion preparing for the new baby as if it was the second coming of Christ. Miss Katherine went into labor on March 19, 1769 with Master by her side. The elder house slave, Victoria, was to deliver the baby, and she made it her business to keep reminding me of my unexpected birthday gift. I tried to ignore her taunts towards me, but the sting of it was always there. After hours of hearing Miss Katherine scream, I finally heard the faint sound of a baby's cry. Master Thorne had a son, James Hagel Thorne II. For once, all seemed well in the big house.
                    Around the beginning of summer, I was a permanent fixture in the house. It was my responsibility to take care of the baby and to prepare the evening meal and to make sure the house was always in more than presentable fashion. On this day I had just put the baby down for his afternoon nap and was preparing to provide lunch for Master and Miss Katherine, when I heard voices rising from the parlor. Not wanting to eaves drop, but allowing my curiosity to get the better of me, I quietly eased to the outside wall of the parlor, out of sight, but close enough to hear the heated argument between them. Master Thorne was speaking through clenched teeth.
"Katherine, I will not have this conversation with you again!"
"This conversation is about our son, the heir to your fortune! You treat him as if he's second best! This is your first born, James! Why do you pretend as though you do not care about that!?"
"Probably because he is not my first born............
"Do not start with that again, James! THAT nigga in THAT kitchen is NOT  a part of our family!"
"Her name is Emma, and I will not have you speak of her that way! SHE is my daughter. SHE is my first born!"
"James, you cannot be serious about this! She is the daughter of a slave! She is not worthy of your name! She is a house NIGGA!"
At that moment, I heard a loud slap and realized Master had struck Miss Katherine across the face. I knew I should have ran, but I was stuck in one spot. Frozen like a statue. Getting caught eaves dropping was not an option, but I could not will my legs to move. It was as though the world was no longer spinning, and I was being held in place without any restraints at all. I had to move. I had to get back to the kitchen. I had to move. Now!