Chapter 15

Chapter 15 explores the protagonist’s internal conflict as they navigate the perils of survival while longing for a sense of identity in a world that denies them autonomy. Each day is spent cautiously avoiding capture, hiding along riverbanks and scavenging for whatever food nature provides, from fish to wild berries. The necessity of remaining unseen weighs heavily on them, forcing them to move only under the cover of darkness. Every footstep must be carefully placed, every sound must be accounted for, as even the smallest mistake could result in recapture or worse. Despite the constant fear, the protagonist finds solace in reading, immersing themselves in words that momentarily transport them away from their grim reality. However, this temporary escape often leads to frustration, as the books they encounter fail to accurately portray the suffering and resilience of enslaved people, distorting their truths in favor of a narrative crafted by those who do not understand their pain.

One such book is Venture Smith’s autobiography, which, while powerful in its own right, still contains inaccuracies that fail to capture the full scope of the enslaved experience. The protagonist contemplates how history is often rewritten by those who hold power, leaving the oppressed to be mere footnotes in their own stories. This realization fuels a newfound desire within them—the need to write their own story, to document their struggles and triumphs in a way that cannot be altered or silenced. Yet, this desire is met with a harsh reality: they lack even the most basic tool for writing. A simple pencil, something so small and seemingly insignificant, becomes an object of longing. The weight of this realization is interrupted by the unexpected arrival of Young George, who presents the protagonist with a stolen pencil, his face alight with mischievous pride.

George recounts his daring act with a sense of triumph, treating the theft as a small but meaningful rebellion against the system that keeps them in chains. The protagonist is overwhelmed with gratitude, though it is mixed with concern for George’s safety, knowing full well the consequences of being caught stealing. Holding the pencil in their hand, they feel an unfamiliar sense of power, as if this simple object could give them control over their own narrative in a way nothing else ever has. George offers a piece of wisdom, advising the protagonist to “tell the story with your ears,” a lesson in listening and observing the world around them. The words strike a chord, reinforcing the idea that their story is not just their own—it belongs to all who have suffered and struggled before them. The stolen pencil, though small, represents something much larger: the ability to claim ownership over one’s voice in a world that constantly tries to silence it.

As the night deepens, the moment of reflection is shattered by the distant but unmistakable sound of hunting dogs. Fear grips the protagonist as they realize the immediate danger they are in, reminding them that their freedom is always precarious. The tension is suffocating, every muscle in their body tensed for the possibility of flight. The dogs grow closer, their barks echoing through the darkness like a cruel reminder of the ever-present threat looming over them. The protagonist tightens their grip on the pencil, understanding now that survival is not just about escaping physical chains but also about resisting the erasure of their existence. In that moment, they make a silent vow—to survive not just in body but in story, to leave behind words that cannot be ignored or rewritten. The chapter closes with this haunting sense of resolve, blending fear with a newfound determination to fight for their right to be remembered.