Slave's Nightmare ((full)) | Trusted |

A root caught my ankle and I went down, face-first into black water. I did not scream. I had learned not to scream. Screaming brought them faster. Instead, I crawled. Hands and knees, through cypress knees and rotting leaves, until I reached a cabin that was not there a moment before.

The faceless woman rocked faster. You, she said. Not with a mouth—with the air itself. That is you. Before you learned to run. Before you forgot how.

She lifted a finger to where her lips would have been. Shh. Then she pointed to the corner. slave's nightmare

The chains never came off, not even in sleep. In the dream, I was running—always running—through a swamp that had no end. Moss hung from the trees like gray ghosts, and the mud pulled at my bare feet with every step. Behind me, I heard the dogs. Not barking, but breathing. Heavy, wet, hungry. And behind the dogs, the horn. That low, moaning horn that meant the master was coming.

“I’m not him anymore,” I said.

The door hung open. Inside, a woman sat rocking. She had no face. Only smooth, dark skin where her features should have been. But I knew her. She was my mother. The one sold away when I was seven.

“Who is he?” I asked.

The boy smiled. It was the worst thing I had ever seen.