Hi kids. I'm in the middle of another story, I know, but this just came to my head and I had to write it down! I don't think I've read many war stories really, but we'll see. I sure know I haven't written any. The facts in this story may be historically incorrect, but I'm only in the eighth grade. Cut me some slack. So don't review and say that my facts are wrong. Anyways, here goes. And I don't own it. Kay?
My coat was torn and ripped. My hair was a mass of tangles and my face was tinted black from filth. But I was alive. And I'd get mad at myself for not stopping to help the masses of corpses groaning and dying right at my feet. The smell of gun smoke filled the air and stung my nose. I was Washington's man, though. I promised I'd get that letter he gave to me safe. I was the only one clever enough who could. I had already been a letter carrier for the past two years. Always got every single letter to the recipient, too.
This particular letter was of detailed battle plans for the next month or so. One of the most important jobs in my life. If this were to fall into the Tories hands, well... let's just say that America as we know it, -probably not the best place to live for the time being, although- would cease to exist. Washington himself gave me the letter. Told me to guard it with my own life.
And so I began my journey. I had already read the letter fifteen times already. George had called me into his office many times to make final adjustments to the plans. I suggested what I could, what I thought was ridiculous and such. So he thought it only right that the man who practically created take it to Colonel Grant. But he was further up in New York. I was in Virginia. It would definitely take me a while to get there.
I had plenty of food and money, that was for sure. I'd always stop at someone's house and they'd give me a meal and a bed. All they wanted in return was a promise in return that we'd soon be a free country. At first I stuttered through an "of course." But now, I've learned that to get what you need, you have to lie through your teeth.
Not that I didn't have any faith for this country. I did. But... In the middle of a war, it's quite hard to look upon the bright side of things. I always hated lying to them, too. Well... except for the pig farmer with the brain dead daughter who insisted I ask for her hand in marriage. You get to be a pretty popular bachelor once they figure out you're working for Washington. I left that place at four in the morning. They didn't see me ever again. I just hope his daughter didn't take it too harshly. Not that she really liked me. She was only just following through with her father's wishes.
But now I was walking, or rather stumbling through a field, with dying people on either side of me, with no weapon. I had forgotten about that particular detail in my eagerness to begin my journey.
"Hey! There's one still standing!"
"I'll kill 'em!"
"No, you fool! He's not a soldier! Look! He hasn't even a weapon!"
"Take him with us. He may have some information!"
And before I could do a thing, two burly men in redcoats were grabbing my arms and pulling me to a prisoner carriage. It's not like I could resist them. They were so much bigger than me, and they had guns. I was pushed into the back of it, and fell to my knees in front of wounded soldiers, groaning and miserable. I took a seat, and tried not to make eye contact.
"Damn those Tories!" said a man with orange hair and freckles that threatened to swallow his face. His overalls were torn and he wasn't even wearing any shoes!
"I was in the middle of an important mission, too," I said.
"Really, eh?" asked Orange Hair. "What's that you were doing?"
I pulled the letter out of my jacket and began to rip it to shreds. "Battle plans to Grant. Washington and I made 'em."
There was a collective gasp throughout the buggy. "You, you know Washington?" gasped a man with a stumpy arm.
"Of course. But that letter is no good now. I can recreate it later, but I can't let the Tories have it." I watched the tarn pieces fall to the ground. My mission was over. I let Washington down.
"You can read? Then you HAVE to tell me what this says, will yeh?" said Stumpy Arm.
I merely sighed and nodded. "Give it here, then." I took the parchment in my hands and looked at the handwriting. It was in the same script as that of Washington's. My eyes widened and read aloud:
"In the alignment of lights, our dance begins"
Everyone looked puzzled, as did I. "This is no ordinary letter. This is Washington's own handwriting. But... I don't... I don't get it..."
"Maybe it's in one of them sector cods?" said Stumpy Arm.
"Sector Cods? Oh, you mean secret codes. Well, I suppose. But this must have an important meaning then. If it were to fall into different hands, no one would understand it, so... Obviously the recipient would be able to read..." I looked at Stumpy Arm. "Excuse me, but where did you find this?"
"Picked it up off of the ground a few days ago."
I nodded my head. Then looked over at my side, where the driver was. "It's best not to talk about this anymore. There are spies everywhere."
Everyone nodded, and we spent the rest of the afternoon ranting about the Tories until well into the evening. In the morning, I awoke to a few gunshots, some yells, and the pungent smell of my own urine, and others too.
"Come on, git!" said one of the armed guards, pulling us off the floor of the buggy and throwing us onto the ground. We were in front of a jail. They got us standing, and shoved us through the doors, the barrels of their guns at our backs.
The jail had a musty smell. I looked at all the man locked up in cells, looking out at us with blank stares. They had families. They had lives. And now it was all gone. They all knew they were goners, and had a defeated look about them. It wasn't as bad for me. Yes, I was on the most important mission for the war, but I had no family. I would die and no one would really care.
The men before me were slumping further. We were going further and further into this hellhole, down more and more steps. Occasionally I would stumble, but Orange Hair was in front of me and he was a strong man, so he kept me from falling down the stairs completely.
Finally, we stopped descending the steps, and Orange Hair had stopped dead, causing me to fall into him. He made a little muffled yelp, not wanting to draw attention to himself. I muttered a soft apology, and he waved it off. The men were pushing us into our cells. For some reason, I was put into solitary confinement. Wasn't even bars in front of me. It was a small room with a bed and a toilet, and there was a door. And one little barred window.
I was thrown in, like the rest of them. I sank to the ground, not believing my luck. I didn't even have a man to socialize with! I sighed, turning to the bed and plopping down. I needed to get word out that I couldn't fulfill my mission, and that the plans were shredded in an attempt to keep the Tories's hands off them.
I hand some parchment in my coat, and a canister that dripped ink so that I could write. It was one of those new ones, and it has been highly convenient. But what would I write? And how could I get it there. I couldn't trust anyone. But I just had to let Washington know...
"Father says that- Oh, hello." I looked up. My breath caught in my throat. A girl with long flowing pink hair was coming in here. Her face was that of an Angel's, and she was just... breathtaking. And that pink dress showed her body quite nicely.
She was talking to what appeared to be a guard dressed in purple attire. I found that a little odd, but I didn't say that aloud. I didn't say anything period. I couldn't. She was there. She waved the guard off, and closed the door behind her. I suddenly became painfully aware of my hygiene, or lack thereof. What? I was self conscious? Around her?
I shook my head. Her accent had a British lilt. She was the enemy. "Hello." she said again.
"Hmph," I grunted.
She held out some clothes to me. "I've come her to care for you properly. Father says that you are a top priority in this place and that you be placed in the utmost care." A few servants appeared carrying a bath and water. "I'll leave you to your washing up, and then I'll tend to your wounds. You have fifteen minutes."
I sighed, shedding my clothes and sliding into the tub. I washed myself and dried ,myself off, putting on the clothing the woman provided. It made me look like a Tory. Great. I sighed and fell onto my bed. I couldn't pry her image out of my mind. Her hair, her face... why was it so hard? I had never felt this way before. It made me mad at myself. I was betraying my own country, lusting after this Tory. I grimaced at how criminal that sounded. If I wanted to stop being attracted to her, then I'd have to be mean. That was the only way. I had to be mean so I wouldn't fall in love with her. There was no other way.
True to her word, though, she arrived fifteen minutes later with various ointments and bandages. She stopped to look at me for a moment, all clean and groomed, and I thought for a moment I saw her swoon. I shook my head. No, it's the lust. Terrible. Be utterly terrible to her.
She came to me and began dressing the gash on my arm. I barely let out a grimace. She dressed various other wounds as well, being extra gentle with each one, taking her time. For whole moments at a time I caught myself staring at her. I kept on repeating in my mind:
"Be terrible to her."
She stood back up, done with her work. "I'll be in later to care for those wounds. But, may I be so rude as to ask your name?"
"Jeremie," I grunted, pleading silently in my mind for her to go so I could stop betraying my country.
"I'm Aelita." Her name fit her appearance.
When I didn't say anything else, she sighed and walked to the door. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Jeremie. Have a nice sleep."
She left, and I fell back onto my bed. "Oh," I groaned. "Why is life so cruel to me?"
Alrighty, this is the end of the first chapter. I hoped you liked it. And don't worry, I know this was a little short, but the other chapters will be longer, I promise!
Lady Epur out(AKA Aelitagurl)