By Latitcha Heywood

On August 3, 2001, I, Janet Sain of 17 years of age living in New York City, was in my bedroom reading a book about slavery, which my English teacher had assigned, for me to read. I learned that many things that I took for granted my ancestors did not get the chance to have. I began wondering what it must have been like for my ancestors going through that time and experiencing slavery. I had not learned about my ancestral background very much- only that I came from an inter-racial background. My mother had also told me that our name, Sain, came from the South, in Maryland where our grandparents worked on a plantation.

            By reading this book, I realized that I had been missing out on a lot by not knowing my family’s history and I felt ashamed. I wish so hard that I could be back there and then in that time and see what they lived through and how our generation survived.

            This is when it first happened.      

            Later that night, before I went to bed, I was still thinking about what had occurred later in the evening. While in my sleep I dreamt I went back to the South to the plantation. when I looked around and corn surrounded me.

            Then I realized I was in the cornfields but I could hear some voices in the distance. I wanted to find out where the noise was coming from but I was afraid to take the chance.

            Suddenly the voices sounded as if they were getting closer. Then out came two young men, one black and by his clothing you could tell he was a slave. He was in washed-out rags. He must have been 17 or 18 years old. The other young man was dressed in much better clothes and he was white. From what I have read the young black boy must call the white one master.

            The white boy looked at me as if it was the first time he was seeing a human being before. Suddenly the black boy said, “Where you come from in the cornfield?” I couldn’t answer his question, so I asked what year we were in to be sure exactly. He told me that it was 1800 in Maryland. At first I couldn’t believe it was real, or something like this was taking place. He also said that we were in the Hussain plantation. The white boy suddenly began to introduce himself, “I’m Michael and this here is Delroy.”. I later told them where I was from. At first they didn’t believe it but then I proved it to them. They were also asking me about why my clothes looked like that. I tried to explain to them these are my home clothes, but it was useless; they didn’t understand.

            Michael told Delroy to get some clothes for me. Michael ledd me into the house and told his father, whose name was John Hussain, that he had found me. I was given a space in the attic where I was to sleep. I was to do house-hold chores. I thought that it was unusual for me to be cleaning a house when I didn’t even clean my own home.

            The young Michael had a sister. She was 17 years old. He was a year older than her. She was so rude, always ordering me around. Michael was already kind to me. He was sweet. Weeks pass and I was in this place. I was beginning to wonder when I would get home back. That fateful night I was going to the attic when Irene, Michael’s sister, saw me and called me back.

            Irene made me go in the cookhouse and do chores. Michael held me down one night and raped me. I tried to stop him and said no but he just kept on doing it. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to stop it. At first, I thought going back to the past would be educational, and I would get to learn something about my ancestors, but instead I had to face sexual brutality. I wanted so much to go home. because it was dangerous for me; Irene is always cursing me then Michael would beat me to have sex with him. People also looked at me funny. Delroy whon usually spoke to me, stopped.         

            One night Michael came to me and after I wished so hard that I would go home that I woke up in my room. I was so glad I got back that I immediately went my mother and hugged her and thank God that the whole experience was over.

            To this day I don’t know if what I lived through was real or not. But once I asked my mother about the name Hussain and she said that we had relatives with that name.