By: ConfederateSpy (ZackMillsGuardian7)
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or anything related.
[A/N:] I am writing this in Gabriel's perspective. And note, this is an alternate ending to The Patriot.
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I will never forget that day. The day my wife died. The day I almost passed away myself. The day I knew I was a man. I was filled up with so much anger that hot, spring morning. That murderer, Tavington, was going to pay fine price.
I caught the Reverend's musket, and shot the murderer square in the chest. I drew my knife from a nearby body. The knife was held like a dagger in my hand. I leaned forward, closer, closer to him. But then, it all happened so fast. Tavington stabbed me with a sword. I couldn't breathe. I lied there on the ground, thinking, 'Now I know why they call him 'The Butcher.''
My father, Benjamin Martin, soon arrived. He was very upset, seeing my lying on the ground with a hole, right in my stomach. Then and there, I knew I had to make it. I had to make to kill that murderer, Tavington.
A couple of hours later, I was lying on a table with people wrapping bandages around my stomach. The pain was almost unbearable, but every time I was about to give up, I thought of Ann in the burning church.
The next day, I was in a tent. I didn't realize that I had fallen asleep. I lied on a large piece of hard material with one heavy cover over myself. I looked over, and my father was sitting there, almost asleep. Knowing him, he was probably awake all night. He had already lost one of his sons; I didn't think he could bear to lose another.
I pushed the covers off of myself then tried to sit up, but failed, and lied back down with a thud. My father must have heard that and quickly came closer, and knelt right by my head. I think I smiled a little, but I can't remember. I was just so thankful that I saw his face, and was alive, "Father, I-" I got cut off. He said to rest, and that it was all right. I had to continue, "Father, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone off with half of your men. It was reckless of me and it hurt your militia." I coughed about every couple words, I still felt miserable. My father just nodded and said, "It's all right." He stood and left with those three words.
Later, I heard a group of men talking about my father's militia moving out soon. I had to go with him. I had to get my revenge on Tavington. I quickly got to my feet, but with some difficulty. I held my stomach in pain and walked out of the tent gingerly. I looked around for my father from where I stood. I saw just mounting a horse with the other militia. I ran over there as best as I could. I yelled, "Father!" I coughed up a little blood after, but it wasn't too serious, though it was enough to set my father off. He quickly dismounted and ran over to me then said that it was too dangerous now that I was wounded. I shook my head, "Father, I have to go." He turned his back, and then walked back to his horse and other men. I looked up at him when he mounted his horse. I said quietly, "He'll pay. Tavington will pay." My father must have understood and glared at me. While I started to button up my overcoat more, and they rode away. I went to get my musket from the tent then out to mount a horse. A doctor ran up and said, "You there, you can't go anywhere! You're injured!" I ignored his words and rode as fast as I could to catch up to my father's militia.
A few hours later, I just caught up with them. I was trailing them by far, but just enough to see them, I prayed that they didn't notice me. The pain in my stomach was growing worse and worse. I would have stopped to rest, but I couldn't lose them. Not now. Not when I got this far.
At nightfall, they had a made a camp. I thought this was the perfect time to arrive. I knew my father would be furious, but I didn't care then, I would get my revenge. I rode up to the campsite slowly. The men started to talk amongst themselves. I looked about the different faces, looking for my fathers. I didn't have to look any further. He stood right in front of my horse. I quickly dismounted, but when I jumped off the horse, I received a sharp pain in my stomach. They must have kept the bullet in. I look my father straight in the eye. My father shook his head and walked out to a group of men huddled around a fire. I led my horse over near the others and tied the reins on a low tree branch. When I walked back over to my father, I saw him starring at a piece of paper. He was alone, apparently the other men had left so my father could be alone and mope.
I sat down next to him, and peered over at the paper. It was a letter from my father to my mother. I skimmed through the letter and cocked my head slightly. I thought to myself, 'This doesn't make sense.'
My father finally spoke, "I wrote this to your mother, but I never sent it. I suppose that I was too shy. We just got married, then I signed up for the army." He cleared his throat, and then continued, "In the letter, I said that the war was over and I was returning home. I was so relieved."
I sighed, "Is there a point?"
My father stood, placing the letter back in his pocket, "No Gabriel. None what so ever." He sighed. I knew that there was something 'special' about it, but I still couldn't figure out what it was. The he said, "You should have stayed."
I shook my head no; "I am going to kill Tavington, for my wife."
"Killing him won't help the hurt you have inside. Believe me."
"He killed Thomas, now my wife? I cannot let him kill any more of my family!" I looked at him with a serious look, but there was sadness in my eyes.
"Tavington almost killed you, Gabriel, I can't let that happen to you again." He walked past me.
"I will avenge my wife and Thomas. You wait." I glared at him, but unfortunately, my weaker side showed. A singled tear slid down my face. I quickly wiped it away, hoping no one would see. I walked to my horse then mounted.
My father asked loudly, "Where are you going?"
I said that I was going to kill Tavington. I heard a light laughter about the men. I swallowed hard. I knew I was crazy for trying, but even if I did get killed, I would be with Ann and Thomas. I looked down at my father in a very serious manor. I didn't want to go alone, but I was determined.
I galloped off. I had so much going through my mind. But most of all, I wanted my father with me. He felt just as bad about Thomas and Ann. But I couldn't feel afraid. I just couldn't. I rode up north, to Pennsylvania. When I was at the camp ground, I heard a man mention that Tavington and his men were moving up there to start and attack. It would take at least three weeks to make it up to Pennsylvania, or even more. I didn't know. I didn't travel up there before.
I decided to camp for the night after I got far enough away from my father's militia. I managed to make a small fire. I lied down on the hard soil and slept there for the night.
When I awoke, I saw my father. I was very surprised. He shook his head and laughed lightly, "We received letter that the British are moving to Yorktown. I was instructed to take my men there and help fight."
I looked at him blankly, "So, Tavington isn't in Pennsylvania?"
My father just replied, "No. I want you to come with us. You can't fight anyone alone."
I sighed, and looked down. I didn't want to be wrong, but Tavington probably would be there at Yorktown. I looked up again, and nodded, "All right."
At Yorktown, we stood ready for the British. Our army looked fair, but the British well outnumbered us. I stood beside my father, my musket ready. The British arrived. Then, we both stood ready. I took a deep breath, and then took aim. It made be nervous being in the front line, but I had no choice. I was going to stand by my father. Our first line fired. I saw a whole row of British men fall to their death. But then, then they fired at us. I cannot remember all of it, but I saw their first line fire, then their second. Bullets came toward us fast. And then, then I just shot in the chest, the arm, and one grazed my forehead. I fell weakly to the ground. There was nothing I could do from there. Nothing. My father would go on to kill Tavington. After the long battle, I couldn't breathe well. I kept getting sharp pains in my arm. I must have fell unconscious next.
Then, it seemed like minutes, I woke up on the front of my father's horse. It seemed so strange. If I really did get shot, why was I on my father's horse? I looked back at him. He smiled. I felt my arm, and it didn't hurt. I didn't see any bloodstains. How long had I gone unconscious? I fell asleep, bending forward. I must have been right over the horse's mane.
I woke up on a carriage. Everyone was on it, Father, Aunt Charlotte, even Meg. I looked in the distance as saw a frame of a house being built. I raised a brow at it. When we arrived at the house, I was instructed to stay in the carriage, I needed my rest.
That was the new start of everything. My father's militia was building us a new house that we would live in today. I sit on a chair by a window, writing what happened many years ago. I am now 27 and have a family of my own, but I will never forget about Thomas and Ann.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or anything related.
[A/N:] I am writing this in Gabriel's perspective. And note, this is an alternate ending to The Patriot.
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I will never forget that day. The day my wife died. The day I almost passed away myself. The day I knew I was a man. I was filled up with so much anger that hot, spring morning. That murderer, Tavington, was going to pay fine price.
I caught the Reverend's musket, and shot the murderer square in the chest. I drew my knife from a nearby body. The knife was held like a dagger in my hand. I leaned forward, closer, closer to him. But then, it all happened so fast. Tavington stabbed me with a sword. I couldn't breathe. I lied there on the ground, thinking, 'Now I know why they call him 'The Butcher.''
My father, Benjamin Martin, soon arrived. He was very upset, seeing my lying on the ground with a hole, right in my stomach. Then and there, I knew I had to make it. I had to make to kill that murderer, Tavington.
A couple of hours later, I was lying on a table with people wrapping bandages around my stomach. The pain was almost unbearable, but every time I was about to give up, I thought of Ann in the burning church.
The next day, I was in a tent. I didn't realize that I had fallen asleep. I lied on a large piece of hard material with one heavy cover over myself. I looked over, and my father was sitting there, almost asleep. Knowing him, he was probably awake all night. He had already lost one of his sons; I didn't think he could bear to lose another.
I pushed the covers off of myself then tried to sit up, but failed, and lied back down with a thud. My father must have heard that and quickly came closer, and knelt right by my head. I think I smiled a little, but I can't remember. I was just so thankful that I saw his face, and was alive, "Father, I-" I got cut off. He said to rest, and that it was all right. I had to continue, "Father, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone off with half of your men. It was reckless of me and it hurt your militia." I coughed about every couple words, I still felt miserable. My father just nodded and said, "It's all right." He stood and left with those three words.
Later, I heard a group of men talking about my father's militia moving out soon. I had to go with him. I had to get my revenge on Tavington. I quickly got to my feet, but with some difficulty. I held my stomach in pain and walked out of the tent gingerly. I looked around for my father from where I stood. I saw just mounting a horse with the other militia. I ran over there as best as I could. I yelled, "Father!" I coughed up a little blood after, but it wasn't too serious, though it was enough to set my father off. He quickly dismounted and ran over to me then said that it was too dangerous now that I was wounded. I shook my head, "Father, I have to go." He turned his back, and then walked back to his horse and other men. I looked up at him when he mounted his horse. I said quietly, "He'll pay. Tavington will pay." My father must have understood and glared at me. While I started to button up my overcoat more, and they rode away. I went to get my musket from the tent then out to mount a horse. A doctor ran up and said, "You there, you can't go anywhere! You're injured!" I ignored his words and rode as fast as I could to catch up to my father's militia.
A few hours later, I just caught up with them. I was trailing them by far, but just enough to see them, I prayed that they didn't notice me. The pain in my stomach was growing worse and worse. I would have stopped to rest, but I couldn't lose them. Not now. Not when I got this far.
At nightfall, they had a made a camp. I thought this was the perfect time to arrive. I knew my father would be furious, but I didn't care then, I would get my revenge. I rode up to the campsite slowly. The men started to talk amongst themselves. I looked about the different faces, looking for my fathers. I didn't have to look any further. He stood right in front of my horse. I quickly dismounted, but when I jumped off the horse, I received a sharp pain in my stomach. They must have kept the bullet in. I look my father straight in the eye. My father shook his head and walked out to a group of men huddled around a fire. I led my horse over near the others and tied the reins on a low tree branch. When I walked back over to my father, I saw him starring at a piece of paper. He was alone, apparently the other men had left so my father could be alone and mope.
I sat down next to him, and peered over at the paper. It was a letter from my father to my mother. I skimmed through the letter and cocked my head slightly. I thought to myself, 'This doesn't make sense.'
My father finally spoke, "I wrote this to your mother, but I never sent it. I suppose that I was too shy. We just got married, then I signed up for the army." He cleared his throat, and then continued, "In the letter, I said that the war was over and I was returning home. I was so relieved."
I sighed, "Is there a point?"
My father stood, placing the letter back in his pocket, "No Gabriel. None what so ever." He sighed. I knew that there was something 'special' about it, but I still couldn't figure out what it was. The he said, "You should have stayed."
I shook my head no; "I am going to kill Tavington, for my wife."
"Killing him won't help the hurt you have inside. Believe me."
"He killed Thomas, now my wife? I cannot let him kill any more of my family!" I looked at him with a serious look, but there was sadness in my eyes.
"Tavington almost killed you, Gabriel, I can't let that happen to you again." He walked past me.
"I will avenge my wife and Thomas. You wait." I glared at him, but unfortunately, my weaker side showed. A singled tear slid down my face. I quickly wiped it away, hoping no one would see. I walked to my horse then mounted.
My father asked loudly, "Where are you going?"
I said that I was going to kill Tavington. I heard a light laughter about the men. I swallowed hard. I knew I was crazy for trying, but even if I did get killed, I would be with Ann and Thomas. I looked down at my father in a very serious manor. I didn't want to go alone, but I was determined.
I galloped off. I had so much going through my mind. But most of all, I wanted my father with me. He felt just as bad about Thomas and Ann. But I couldn't feel afraid. I just couldn't. I rode up north, to Pennsylvania. When I was at the camp ground, I heard a man mention that Tavington and his men were moving up there to start and attack. It would take at least three weeks to make it up to Pennsylvania, or even more. I didn't know. I didn't travel up there before.
I decided to camp for the night after I got far enough away from my father's militia. I managed to make a small fire. I lied down on the hard soil and slept there for the night.
When I awoke, I saw my father. I was very surprised. He shook his head and laughed lightly, "We received letter that the British are moving to Yorktown. I was instructed to take my men there and help fight."
I looked at him blankly, "So, Tavington isn't in Pennsylvania?"
My father just replied, "No. I want you to come with us. You can't fight anyone alone."
I sighed, and looked down. I didn't want to be wrong, but Tavington probably would be there at Yorktown. I looked up again, and nodded, "All right."
At Yorktown, we stood ready for the British. Our army looked fair, but the British well outnumbered us. I stood beside my father, my musket ready. The British arrived. Then, we both stood ready. I took a deep breath, and then took aim. It made be nervous being in the front line, but I had no choice. I was going to stand by my father. Our first line fired. I saw a whole row of British men fall to their death. But then, then they fired at us. I cannot remember all of it, but I saw their first line fire, then their second. Bullets came toward us fast. And then, then I just shot in the chest, the arm, and one grazed my forehead. I fell weakly to the ground. There was nothing I could do from there. Nothing. My father would go on to kill Tavington. After the long battle, I couldn't breathe well. I kept getting sharp pains in my arm. I must have fell unconscious next.
Then, it seemed like minutes, I woke up on the front of my father's horse. It seemed so strange. If I really did get shot, why was I on my father's horse? I looked back at him. He smiled. I felt my arm, and it didn't hurt. I didn't see any bloodstains. How long had I gone unconscious? I fell asleep, bending forward. I must have been right over the horse's mane.
I woke up on a carriage. Everyone was on it, Father, Aunt Charlotte, even Meg. I looked in the distance as saw a frame of a house being built. I raised a brow at it. When we arrived at the house, I was instructed to stay in the carriage, I needed my rest.
That was the new start of everything. My father's militia was building us a new house that we would live in today. I sit on a chair by a window, writing what happened many years ago. I am now 27 and have a family of my own, but I will never forget about Thomas and Ann.