In His Own Image

<p><em>BLOOD IS SUPPOSED TO BE THICKER THAN WATER. </em>But he made my blood spill like water. So I crossed waters to leave blood behind hoping I wouldn't leave a trail for him to follow and find me. Still when I am enjoying the fruits of freedom most that is when I think I see him-in a crowd or just outside a darkened window-determined to have his slave returned. </p><p><br></p><p><em>AT ONE TIME I WONDERED HOW HE WOULD HAVE FELT ABOUT CALLING ME HIS SON.</em> The circumstances of my birth were not unusual. But while many slaves may only hear rumors about their parentage... I know mine for sure. I am Percival Bishop the bastard of my master Joachim Bishop.</p><p><br></p><p><em>BUT I COULD NEVER TRULY BE HIS SON.</em> I was born a slave. I was taught to think like a slave; to pray and dream like a slave; to hunger and thirst to regard the possible and impossible like a slave. I must not forget that. Because now I must break that slave apart. I must make myself anew. Into a man. In my own image.</p>