09/04/2024
Chuyển nghề làm nhà văn. Sau chuyến thăm viện bảo tàng, mình tiếc thương cho những sự hi sinh xương máu dành lại tự do nên đã viết nên câu chuyện tình yêu này:
University of London, 2024
“Why are you continuing your studies, with these good grades you would have a bright future. You said you want to become a doctor right?”, said the professor.
“I’m sorry professor.” Oliva stood up and ran out of the classroom.
That night, she stood up by the Thames River, her eyes reflecting the city's splendid lights, mingling around her was the distant echo of the police sirens, and her mind clouded with turmoil. Her father, Edward Clark, a heroic officer, had perished in a bloodshed war against the city's drug lords, leaving her with a life she couldn't accept. Olivia's disdain for his sacrifice, seeing it as an abandonment of her family, a choice that forced her mother into working two jobs, while Olivia herself had to miss her education due to financial burden.
“See Dad, your sacrifice means nothing. The drugs lord is still hanging around the streets, partying and where are you dad? 6 feet under the ground”, she muttered bitterly as she crossed through Westminster Bridge.
..Suddenly, there was a loud crash. Olivia was struck by a two-floor city bus. Oliva lay under the streets, her hair soaking in a pool of her own blood. Her eyelids grew heavy, and darkness swiftly covered everything.
Time passed, and the sun rose again over the Thames River, accompanied by a gentle morning rain. The soft raindrops fell on Olivia’s face, nudging her back to consciousness as she slowly woke up. Olivia was horrified, constantly checking her body but it seemed she had no injury besides just a little headache. But wait, there were some things wrong. The familiar concrete of Westminster Bridge was now filled with patches of wooden planks, and the air was filled with the constant sound of horse hooves clattering. Everything surrounding bewildered Oliva’s mind as she was now in early eighteenth-century London.
London, 1707
On the bridge of Westminster, Olivia slowly woke up. She glazed her eyes around and was immediately struck by the horrific sight of countless rotting corpses hanging inside a metal frame across the bridge. Under each of them was a sign: “Every pirate must be executed as an order of the King of England.”
As she wandered through the streets of London, the cityscape’s architecture spoke of centuries past, with timber-framed houses separated by narrow, cobblestone streets. The chattering sound of a nearby market drew her attention.
Olivia curiously came close, her heart sinking, as men, women, and children of color were chained and sold like livestock in a slave auction. Below the auction block, a crowd of white men in fancy clothes eagerly waved their money, competing in bids. Beside them stood black servants in uniform, their gazes perpetually cast downward, as if the sight of their kinds being traded like mere possessions was too gruesome to witness.
Looking from further behind, a sense of disgust and fear rose in her eyes. Olivia then slowly glanced down at her hand, and the reality hit her: “Oh yes I forgot, I’m black too.”
“Why are you doing her”. A slave trader suddenly appears behind her. Not letting her have a chance to say. They chained her and took her right away to the slave auction she had just witnessed.
Oliva was sold to a merchant house right in London as their servant. The transactions were disgustingly fast and in the blink of her eye, Oliva was now in a horse carriage to a glamorous mansion in the middle of Kensington.
Sitting next to her fellow captive, Thomas, a slave around her age with eyes like stormy seas. Seeing the horror and fear in Oliva's eyes, Thomas smiled: “It’s okay. This is my third time doing this. The first time, I was in the boat for 3 months, they said I would get a free holiday. Then they suddenly cuffed me and sent me to a sugar plantation on some island. And now I’m here. I guess this is the holiday I’m waiting for.”
"Hey, I’m just kidding. Don’t be scared. We’ll get through this.". His words, along with a strong resilience in his eyes, eased Olivia’s isolation and fear.
In the following days, Thomas became Olivia’s constant companion. They shared chores in the merchant's house, from scrubbing floors to preparing lavish meals for their white masters. However, their excursions to the market became their only waiting moment, a journey through London’s pulsating heart, the only time they could be free.
Together, they traversed the routes along the Thames, choosing paths that afford to see the bright horizon above the river, a distant line that portrays their dream of freedom. Amid the roar of the Thames River, Thomas whispered to Olivia of dreams and schemes of liberty, painting a picture of a world beyond their bo***ge, an only bright hope in the darkness of reality: “London, if we are not thinking of slavery, is a lively city. If I’m free, I will become an architect and I want to build a huge high clock right beside this river. So we won’t be late for dinner anymore.”
Through these little moments, the harsh landscape of 18th-century London became the backdrop for their bond and love to flourish.
One fateful night, Olivia stumbled upon a hidden door that led to the basement in the grocery shop she and Thomas used to go to. After a long breath, she pushed the door open and sneered inside. It turned out that hundreds of servants gathering here preparing for a rebellion tonight. At the front, Thomas stood on a stage, reviewing the plan for the crowd. His plan was ambitious. He wants to free not only him but all slaves across Kensington.
Olivia, heart pounding with fear and disbelief, confronted Thomas, shouting urgently, "This is useless! You will die. Even if you succeed tonight, slavery will persist for another century in England. You all will die for a useless cause. Thinking about your loved ones before you do this"
Thomas turned to her. "It's precisely for my loved ones that I must act, I don’t want my children, my grandchildren, to be chained."
Desperate, Olivia pleaded, "Then let’s escape, just you and me. We can find freedom without risking everything."
But Thomas strongly refused. “This isn't just about my freedom or yours," he declared. "It's about liberation for all our people. If we don’t do anything, how’s things going to change?"
“You are just like my father. You are going to die for nothing. After you die, everything you fight against will remain. You are not going to change anything.” Olivia screamed in tears before heading away.
That night, as Olivia lay in her bed, the distant cries of rebellion filled the air, mingling with the horrific sounds of gunfire, clashing swords, and the startling run of horses. Her tears filled her eyes, nose, and mouth. She can’t face hundreds of deaths which she knew were inevitable.
Then, amidst the chaos, a different reality emerged—the steady beep of medical equipment and constant conversations of doctors. Olivia's eyes gradually open under the sterile light of a hospital room in modern-day London. Olivia wakes up from her dream.
In the following days, the memories of 18th-century London still haunted Olivia's mind, prompting her to visit the Museum of London Docklands. As she wandered through the exhibits on slavery and the countless rebellions, Olivia understood the profound bravery and courage of these individuals, who were prepared to lay down their lives not for themselves, but for the future of their loved ones and the hope of a better world. Their sacrifices, she realized, had the power to change the course of history to create a better future like today. She learned now how brave her heroic father was and regretted disdaining him for his sacrifice.
As the tears slowly filled her eyes, some things remarkable astounded her: “The famous British Black movement in London, which stood against the discrimination of the black community in 1965 leading to the Race Relations Act, was led by Peter Blackwood, a direct descendant of the renowned slave, Thomas Blackwood” - the very Thomas she met.
