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She was tired of everybody telling her what she could do and what she could not do. But she couldn't very well defy direct orders. She knew she had no place else to go, and she would have to live with it. But still it grated her nerves.

It wasn't as if she had a bad lot in life. She had plenty of food to eat, and she had a warm place to sleep. But Jen was still no more than a slave, a servant. She was at the mercy of her master's whims, and there was nothing she could do about it.

There WERE laws against it. Her master was unauthorized to keep a slave, but no one ever turned him in. He had a lot of money and he kept plenty of "friends" near him. Plenty of prominent "friends". So, she remained a part of her master's household, and she endured the hours of monotonous work her master forced her to do. She suffered her master telling her he was "her father" every day. She didn't complain when her master sent her to bed without any blankets in winter.
And she stayed.

But she was getting older, and there was a part of her that she would be able to run. She could escape. It was always in the back of her mind and she was always waiting for the perfect opportunity.

Then one bright autumn day it came. Her master was down in the cellar, looking for who knew what. He called her name several times, and when she came to see what the trouble was, she found that he had shut the door behind him and it had locked him in. With a jolt she realized that now was the exact moment she had been anticipating, and without a word she slipped out.

To be continued