N/A N/A

The Sao Joao Bautista

I don’t deserve this. Dear Diary, I’m sorry for the tears that have

stained your lovely pages. I feel nothing but grief and sorrow as of now

and my body is in no capacity to hold it in. I’m so scared- I can’t sleep

or eat with this dread that I could be killed at any second. I have been

beaten, bruised, looked down on, and absolutely ridiculed for the

past-I-I’m not sure. The amount of pain I’ve endured within this day makes

it seem like forever. I’ve been on this ship forever. Will this be forever?

---

I hope whoever is reading this will come for me. I don’t want to live

a life where I have to hope to escape or hope to die for freedom. Please,

please God, if you can see this, save me. This world, these people- cruel.

I overheard them saying we were heading to Wetherswood...Connecticut?

Something like that. Right before they took us all, I was pulled into a

clearing and put on a platform. They chained my ankles and dragged me

through the dirt. Our village chief was sitting in front of me and 20 other

people who were on the platform and then they started calling names. Tens

upon tens of names and they tied us all together and pulled us in a line.

Threatened us with guns, blindfolded us. They kept yelling and shouting and

commanding- “Stay in line!”, “Don’t question us!”, “Shut your mouths or

die.” I didn’t know what was happening. I heard a gunshot far ahead of me.

My stomach sank and I thought I could be next. My assumptions were answered

when I stepped in a squelching warm puddle. The smell of iron stung my nose

and my stance faltered. I felt a nudge in my shoulder and a gruff voice

told me to keep it moving. A particularly pale man walked up to my chief

and gave him a satchel of gold. Before I was blindfolded the Chief shrugged

at me. Of course he did. He wasn’t being ripped away from his family and
stuffed in the bottom of a ship like a dog. He was being paid. And he

didn’t care about my brother. Jarim (pronounced Ha-reem). He was only 14. I

don’t know how old he is now. He’s probably dead. I hope he is. I hope he

jumped off the ship like the rest of them and managed to escape. Escape

from this boat, escape from this horror, escape from the cruelty of life.

They put all of the girls into the brig; I don’t know what they did with

the boys that didn’t jump. This one girl-I think her name is Naimi- keeps

taking my portion of the sad excuse for food that they provide me and the

others. I want to cry out or tell someone but they wouldn’t care. We were

slaves. I heard the captain use the term a couple times. I guess I won’t

be blowing out any candles for my birthday this year. Happy birthday to me.

-Raina, 16
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The Sao Joao Bautista

Dear Diary, my bruises have gotten worse. You’d think that they’d at

least make sure that the people who were going to serve them would be

intact. I don’t know how long it’s been. I’ve lost count of the days that

we’ve been stuck on here. All I know is that the chalk has run out and

there are at least 10 marks on the walls. The brig smells of rotting flesh.
Three people have died within this captivity. It’s taking every bit of my

willpower not to cry my soul out and beg for the man to shoot. Pull the

trigger like they clearly wanted to. I have no words to describe this. They

partied last night. Pranced overtop of us like we had no worth. Papa always

told me that I was worth more than the stars and the world to him.

Papa...Please come for me. Come before my tears wilt this page into

nothingness. Please...

---

Today, a boy came to serve provisions for us. I don’t know but he

just seemed...different from the other white men aboard the ship. He didn’t

have any weapons, he had a soft, cooling voice, and his smile- God, is this

the angel you sent to save me? I know I shouldn’t be thinking these things.

I was just taken into captivity by these people, how could any of them be

good? I still think that but something he did kind of melted my

speculation. He was distributing food and water but there was this smaller

child who was crying in the corner. He walked up to him, crouched down, and

smiled. He said softly, “Hey little buddy. My name’s Charlie. What’s

yours?” I was surprised. Wasn’t his father, the captain, talking about

never mingling with us? The little boy mumbled back, “J-Jarim.” My heart

stopped. I couldn’t tell if my eyes looked watery to anybody else but I

knew I was about to cry. Charlie sighed softly and said, “Don’t cry, you’re

gonna be ok. Wanna hear a secret?” And the little boy nodded. Some of the

older people around him leaned in slightly. Charlie said, “I’m gonna get

you out of here. You, and the rest of your people as well. Ok?” A small

smile creeped across the boy’s face and my heart warmed. Naimi started to

cry. “Thank you.” She pressed. Charlie turned to face her and nodded. “Of

course. But for now, you guys should probably eat.” He walked across the

floor placing small bags in front of each person. I was at the end. When
he walked in front of me, he stopped for a second and gazed into my eyes.

He slowly set down the bag and it had a little piece of paper on it. As he

was walking up the stairs I hesitated but said, “Wait you left your piece

of-!” He stopped and turned his head around slightly. He put a finger up to

his mouth and winked.

“It’s for you, silly.” He whispered. I was awestruck. You know,

speaking of which, I should probably open it. I think it’s called an

envelope. It says, “For Ray.” on the front. Does he remember my name?

---

I-I have no words. It reads, “Meet me in the below deck kitchen at 1

am. I have something to discuss with you. Don’t tell anybody, don’t

hesitate, and mostly importantly, don’t get caught.”

---

-Raina, 16
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The Sao Joao Bautista

I-I can’t stay long. They’re going to start shooting because of me. I

did it. I met Charlie in the kitchen early this morning. I thought we were

fine but someone on the crew saw us. I’m gonna die. I know it. If anyone

sees this, help! And don’t let anyone else but you see this because‫ـﮩ‬٨
 ---

It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t opened my stupid mouth then Charlie

wouldn’t be in this situation. Forget the formalities, there isn’t going to

be a “dear diary” today. But if you must know, Charlie showed up like he

said in the bottom kitchen sometime early in the morning. He was leaning on

the scruffy wall which had peeling paint and an attempt of a wood border on

the bottom. The room reeked of alcohol and fish. I crept towards the

doorway and put a hand on the doorframe. He looked amused.

He said, “You’re late. 1:30 am.” I was a bit scared because I was

still in danger and I didn’t really know who this guy was except for the

fact that he was nicer than the others. But more than that, it was

offensive for him to tell me that I was late. It’s not like they gave us

access to clocks or anything. I just started crying and fell to the floor.

I didn’t kneel, I didn’t gently place myself on the floor, I just

collapsed. Charlie instantly jolted off of the wall and helped me up. He

pulled me into the room and closed the door so that we wouldn’t get

noticed. To our convenience, there was a bed built into the wall. As

tattered as it was, it could still hold me. Essentially, he put me in bed

and got an ice pack for my head. I started running a fever and began to

hyperventilate.

“Hey, hey, hey- Shh...you’re gonna be fine. I swear on my life.” I

jerked suddenly.

“No I’m not. I’m not, I’m not..." I mumbled. He pulled up a chair and

sat by me.

“I’m gonna save you. I promise.” My fever went down thank God and I

sat on the edge of the bed and looked at him. I was still cautious though.

“Why are you helping me?” He winked.

 “Let’s just say I’m returning the favor.” We talked for a while and I

really got to know him. His personality, perspective in the slave trade,

and his family history. He told me that his mother was dead. There was a

creak on the floorboards above us. I squealed abruptly and Charlie looked

at me with a cautioning expression.

Suddenly, someone came behind us and grabbed my wrist and Charlie’s

bicep. He yanked us up the stairs and threw us into the center of the

deck. He yelled for everyone to wake up. The captain came and stood in

front of us and I felt very lightheaded. He said,

“Charles, what were you doing with this ugly slave girl?” And so I

found out his real name was Charles. He was kneeling and he looked up at

his father, cocking his head to the side.

 “She’s not ugly. She’s very pretty, maybe even prettier than mother.”

His father slapped him across the cheek. Charlie’s nose began to bleed and

I gasped.

“You watch your tongue you ingrate. Know your place.” His father said

sternly. Then he shifted his gaze towards me.

“And you. What bloody demon possessed you to even look my son in the

eye?” I whimpered and got to my knees.

“N-Nothing sir I just-“ I tried to explain but then Charlie with his

stupid self got involved again.

“Raina, stand up.” His father eyed him again.

“No, stay kneeling before me.” The captain said. Charlie was

persistent.
 “Ray..Stand. Up.” His father proceeded to attempt at grabbing

Charlie’s ear but then the cock of a gun stopped him. Charlie slowly stood

up, gun pointed at his fathers head.

“Don’t. Move.”

---

He threatened the rest of the crew with the gun and considering that

they all had guns I was wondering why they didn’t shoot Charlie. Or should

I say Charles. No, Charles sounds weird. I stood up reluctantly and choked

on my words.

“Why aren’t they shooting?” I managed to murmur. He scoffed smugly.

“Because. I’m the best marksman on the ship. And they all know it. If

someone shoots then I shoot.” The Captain had his hands up and behind his

head.
 “Charlie, what in God’s name is this mutiny? Why are you defending

her?” Charlie didn’t respond, he simply narrowed his eyes. The Captain let

out a barking laugh.

“Don’t honestly tell me you like her-!” Then Charlie yelled at him,

“And so what if I do?! What does that matter if you would’ve worked

her and the rest of her people to the death for your own sake?! You’re

cruel. I’d rather be in mother's shoes than to breathe the same air as

you.” The Captain began to walk towards him.

“You ungrateful piece of-” A gunshot echoed through the open ocean

air. Charlie shot his father in the ankle causing him to collapse.

“I wish you’d gotten a bit more of mother’s moral compass in the time

you spent with her.” Charlie spat. I thought that was the end of it but I

was wrong. One of the crew members grabbed me from behind and dragged me

below deck. He’s still here. He said that if Charlie didn’t surrender that
he’d kill me and three other slaves of his choice. Charlie’s looking down

through the metal bars in the ceiling, hopefully planning a way to get me

out of here. He told me to hold on. I don’t know how much longer I can.

Everytime I hear a noise up there, a grunt, a gunshot, a scuff on the

floor, I jolt. I didn’t realize that I cared about Charlie that much. I

hope he realizes.

N/A N/A

The Sao Joao Bautista

 He was asleep so I decided to act fast. Haven’t seen you in a while

diary. Sorry for the rush but of course you understand that I am at the

brink of certain death. Today was my first experience of true pain. I found

out something about Charlie that I should’ve expected. He may have been

different from a slave owner but in the end they were all the same. I had

all the slaves come upstairs while the guy was sleeping and locked the door

behind us. Quickly after I heard thick raps on the door. Charlie tried to

run up to me and the little boy he had helped but his father (who was

still on the floor) yanked his ankle and dragged him right next to him.

Then he held a dagger to Charlie’s neck. I gazed at his father with an

emotionless expression and my eyes began to water. I asked him not to hurt

Charlie.

“But why wouldn’t I? Hasn’t Charlie told you what he did?” The

Captain asked. Charlie glared back at him. I asked him what he did and he
told me everything. He was responsible for the death of a black family and

it was so grave that it drove his mother ill. He rejected their pleas for

a place to stay in the middle of a snowstorm and they all lay dead on his

doorstep. Since then he vowed to never mistreat anyone ever again but I had

no words. I put my hands up to my face and began to cry.

“How could you-!” I sobbed. He said

“Ray, I’m sorry I-“ But I didn’t let him finish. I got the other

girls and children to take the rowboats. The rest of the crew has mostly

just stepped back. It’s between me and Charlie now. I- I really don’t

deserve this.

-Raina, 16
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The Sao Joao Bautista

*Dear Diary, this is not Raina Osei-Jones. I am the author. This was

the story of Raina, a slave girl who braved the journey to Wethersfield,

Connecticut and fell in love with her master’s son. Slavery was a repulsive

stage of human history. Thousands upon thousands of people were mistreated,

used, and broken during this. Raina was one who managed to escape before

the horror of slave life began for her. In her last words, she said she

didn’t deserve it. Deserve what exactly? She was trying to say she didn’t

deserve to escape. Because there were people who were off far worse than

her, the slaves who died on the bottom of that ship. In the end, she

decided that death was better than bondage. She jumped. Freed herself from

captivity and pledged her life to the ocean. Not only that, her

love-Charles, the master’s son-jumped with her. The cruelty of those events

drove many people to death and not just the slaves. Charles was the only

one in that time who realized that what they were doing was wrong. And so

dear audience of this diary, drink your coffee, lay in your bed tonight

knowing that Raina, a slave girl died safely in the embrace of her lover,

slowly drifting to the depths of the ocean.*

-Author