Nadja

1 610 Powhatan village, near Jamestown colony

“Now you need to rest. Get some sleep.” Christopher tucked him into the skin blanket. A picture flashed in my mind of mother doing the same thing to us when we were kids. My smile faded. Father fell asleep as soon as he closed his eyes and his breathing became less raspy. Christopher looked as helpless as a lost puppy and I couldn't help but feel pity for him. But I knew he was angry, angry at himself for being so useless in what he thought was an important situation and yet all he could do was sit and watch father become worse and worse then die. This I could tell because he blames himself for almost everything,since he was a kid he held this habit, and holds it in until it overflows then directs it at someone. Any moment now he would burst and I prepared myself for what was coming with the need to get the ordeal over with. “Why do you not try!?” His face was filled anger as he stood up straight. His fists clenched. “Try what?” I was used to this. I spoke calmly without looking at him. “To stop this!” He pointed at father his voice raised and face red. “To stop what?” I quirked my eyebrow. “Death?”A fierce silence filled my ears feeling his burning gaze o me. I looked in his dark blue eyes which became lighter as his fierce anger was replaced with stone cold sadness of understanding. His little light of hope crushed by the dark truth of what I was saying. Aren’t I just the best big brother ever?

I looked down at father in surprised as he called my name. Making me flinch when his pain filled moan hit my ears.

“I’m sorry… Victor.” His eyes were glazed with age. “Don’t talk father. Wait, when did you wake up?” I looked at Christopher with the thought ‘Probably when you started shouting smart one.’ But kept my mouth shut. “Sorry for what? You have done no wrong that needed for apologizing.” I was startled. “I don’t know.You seem more detached from this world and I feel responsible.” He had another coughing fit. Christopher started rubbing and patting is back glancing up at me with guilt. He seems to wear those emotions a lot now.

My father was a good, kind, cat loving man. He did not believe in witches, curses or even think that slaves and Indians are savages. He believes them to be human and has raised us to believe that as well. We were a strange family. Peaceful father, beautiful yet poor mother and mischievous twins that had opposite personalities. Half the village still loved us and never thought wrong of the pranks that my brother, I and even mother played on everyone. It was a dream. Reality hit us when mother died of the same illness my father has now.I was six at that time. We began to hear rumors about us that have been going on for months now but were whispered when we weren’t around. He started drinking a week after she died. he wanted to blame to direct his anger and pain at something and I was the only thing around. He guided his anger and sadness at me. I always hid my brother before father came home so he wouldn't experience anything he couldn't handle. he just hid at the top of the stairs watching me being slapped out of anger or just comforting father while he wept. He was a whirl pool of uncontrollable emotion every other night. Sometimes he was violent, sometimes he was depressed and ,if I'm lucky, sometimes he just plain passes on a chair. when he wasn't passed out i always tucked him in bed with a warm drink and had Christopher help me with my wounds and sores after he fell asleep. My brother was uneasy throughout it all and felt upset that he couldn't to anything other than smile and stand on the sidelines. When father was sober in the morning he would notice my bruises on my face as well as the shadows under my eyes and asked about them in a worried loving manner. I lied and told him it was from another fight I had with John Beetle, the bratty kid who hated my brothers guts for no reason at all, I always fought with him and always won. Father would just smile sadly and give my brother and I a hug. It hurt to lie but I just couldn't add thunder and lightning to his pouring depression. He would hold himself responsible of my bruises. he and my brother were to kind and caring so I got thicker skinned and made myself the back bone of the family. That's what mother did. He stopped drinking a year later. That was nine years ago. He no longer is pained about mothers death, he is going to see her any way. " Detached? When have I left the ground of this earth ,father?" I gave him a sad smile. " Father, please, lay down. Koko-Tala is getting herbs to ease your pain just wait." Christopher gently pushed father down in the skin blanket. Father looked up at me and smiled happily. " That girl is knocking some sense into you. I know someone else who did the same to me." He looked up and smiled. He was thinking of mother of when they first met. I knew. He was linking Mother and Destiny together, comparing the two. He was happy, probably thinking of pairing us off. My face turned hot and annoyance tugged at my brain. I honestly don't know what to think of her. She attractive in both ways ,yes, but I knew nothing about the girl. NOTHING. Her back-round is a mystery to me. I had to tell him my uncertainty about my feelings towards her. He is sure to understa- " Victor. I encourage you to wed that Angel one day. She is good for your life." Or maybe not. That caught me off guard so I'm certain my face was probably as red as a tomato. The embarrassment lit an angry fuse but I held it in. " A fathers dying wish." He persisted with a grin. Christopher started laughing in his hand from my expression and softly smiled down at father. " Greet mother for us. Will you?" Christopher asked. Father nodded, he just kept on smiling. The atmosphere became lighter as father began to remember his life.What he always did was to dance with mother on any occasion whether it be a holiday or just a simple day.Mom loved dancing. Christopher and I joined in sometimes then all of us would end up tripping on our own feet from the crowd. We would laugh about it later, even though our bruises ached and our feet felt sore, we would just laugh. Yes, we were a strange family indeed ,and we liked it that way. I didn't even realize I was drifting in memories until Destiny walked in holding two small bowls with one containing water and the other containing what looked like freshly made medicine. I glanced around the room to see that father and Christopher had startled expressions but looked composed a moment after.Apparently I wasn't the only one drifting. Destiny noticed this and giggled softly then her face turned serious in an instant as she walked over to care for father. She probably didn't expect us to looked dazed when she walked into the tent of a dying man but she also composed herself well. "How are you feeling uncle?" She asked while putting a damp cloth on his head. Her blue eyes focused and determined but voice soft and comforting. Father insisted she call him uncle until she finally gave in. Two stubborn bulls but father was a bull with patience. A skill that I have learned through the years and was slightly proud of. Smiling as I remembered my first win in a battle of will. It was an argument whether I would've been able to survive on my own without parents. I won by getting odd jobs to pay for my own food and learning how to cook from my teacher. Embarrassing, yes, but necessary for my stomach was growling and father refused to give me food until I admitted I was wrong. I felt annoyed and furious ,but that just made me want to prove it more. So I foolishly insisted of doing everything by myself. The reason I won was because I was also being taught how to build houses late at night after being kicked out to push me to my limit. Mother was uncertain and worried about the whole thing ,but she let it slip after some fine convincing from father. So I went to watch people build a house and listened to what they said every night and day while resting in a tree in which was my sleeping spot for that time. This lasted for two weeks until the house was finished. I was able to gather simple information that would help me in my goal and I was proud to find that I had just the right information and right techniques to make my own little hut in the big meadow near our village. It took me two days to get the right materials and five days of hard work to finish it. I stayed in it for the next week with a job that gave me enough money for food and spares of cloth for bedding and utensils for cooking. It was on room with half the floor covered with wood where my bed and other property was and the other half dirt where I put my fireplace to keep the bugs away and to cook on. It seems I was also being spied for when I came back to my little hut ,after helping Ms. Sandra with crops, Father and Christopher where there examining it. I remember fathers proud expression of defeat. He was testing me at that time and was impressed. He admitted I was right and that I was able to survive without supervision. That experience will hopefully come in handy soon. Destiny made father take the medicine ,ordered him to rest, then ushered us out. We were greeted outside by a feast of food and tan skinned people with mixed expressions on there faces. A sea of dark faces full of different emotions. All their dark eyes studying us as we sat down with destiny in the circle with keen eyes. Suspicion was obviously on their minds so I tried to keep myself composed not knowing of what else to do. As the night grew deeper the tribe began to feel more comfortable and secure as we joined their festivities. After eating the food and telling the stories of what the "white mens" lives are like, I went in my own little tent to sleep for the night but not before thanking the tribe for their help. They nodded and smiled with acceptance. I dreamt of hanging on a rope in the middle of darkness. I felt secure as I held on tighter ,the black embrace feeling warm against my skin, then it was cut in a flash. A streak of light swept across the rope and it snapped, a painful sound that echoed in my ears as I fell and fell. The warmth abandoning me and my self security shattered. I looked around me to see the darkness being overpowered by light, blinding me, cold hit me so suddenly I stopped breathing. I didn't even realize I was struggling until my limbs were frozen and glittering with frost. The light was blinding, so bright, so unreal. The last thing I saw was my outstretched hand reaching for that rope.

I woke up to hear a awful sound and realized it was a scream.I ran to the source and found Christopher holding Destiny.Her face looked like a statues, emotionless and guarded, that made my heart skip a beat. Then slowly looked down and nearly threw up at the awful sight. The tribe surrounded the tent and saw two grieving brothers and an even paler girl in her stone cold state.They began to comfort us immediately. Father died last night. We buried him next to my little hut which was magically still in one peace. A sad smile crossing my face as memories of playing in this meadow filled my mind. We started coming here after I built this hut. Mother loved it here, so father would want to be here laying next to her. She was buried in this place after she died herself. Some natives came in respects ,but didn't know how to give blessing to a white man so the statue Destiny made Translations to questions that were asked by natives and told them my answers. A few gave flowers, some food and some even went down on there knees in a praying position and started talking to a god they didn't even believe in or understand which baffled me but I let them be. After they went back in the woods a few hiding villagers from my home came and started weeping. Good friends, people he worked with or just acquaintances. They prayed all day then left at sunset. I went back home with Christopher to be greeted by emptiness as we quitly went to our rooms and lay in bed. I looked up at the sky and smiled. Father was dancing with mother now.

Imagination+Reality Don't mix

I imagine myself somewhere else all the time I imagine myself in a world that doesn't exist That can't possibly be real I imagine my self with a different body and face Different confidence for a different reason I imagine a world where there are demons Humans and half-demons A world where bad guys and good guys can be found at every corner A world were a fight for life and death was a daily ritual and the hero struggled But always won at the end I imagine I'm with a group of friends who are set on a journey with the same goal in mind I imagine myself with a different past that shapes me in many ways to make myself wise and dangerous I imagine my self with a different name that is clever and original Then my world of wonders disappears As I hear my name My mind fading back to this reality That was dull in my eyes No adventures No battles with demons for life and death No journey No danger in every corner No fantasy or magic Just plain dull reality While doing my daily I also imagine morphing this world into a more exciting place and more worthwhile than any math problem or history lesson can compare Yeah But that dream can't come true Because its Reality. And it sucks.

What is the historical setting for this story? I've set the story in 1615 in a native village and James town around the time their finding the "new world".The native villages and Jamestown have made peace through Pocahontas's marriage to John Rolfe. An english man who just recently cropped a tobacco plantation.

What is true in this story? Pocahontas was real as well as her sad story. Some part have been dramatized into something else that isn't true or just added. She also did wed to John Rolfe around the age of 15-17. Rolfe was a tobacco farmer who lost his English wife who died and wrote a long letter to the governor asking to wed Pocahontas. This marriage made tradings between the Powhatan and Jamestown as well as the native villages around Powhatan. The wedding did not make the Powhatan give back the English captives they held but it did create a bridge of peace between the Jamestown colonists and the Powhatan tribe that lasted for several years.

What is fictional in this story? Nearly all the characters in my chapter are not real such as the father, twins, townspeople and the native Americans. As far as I seen there was no recorded history of people like them.Only well known adventurers or Powhatan himself may be mentioned in the story in conversation but wont appear due to the fact nothing like my story is recorded. The story itself isn't true either, it's all from my imagination and from the inspiration of Pocahontas's real history.

In this story you will read about? Victor is dealing with life after his fathers death and trying to find out his feelings toward a strange white girl, Koko-Tala nicknamed Destiny, who has claimed herself a full native. He and his twin brother, Christopher, are now orphans without a home or relative to stay with and his hometown is getting suspicous of his actions with the natives despite the peace that Pocahontas's recent marriage to John Rolfe have made in the nearby village of Jamestown. This story is based on the fact that some colonists may still hold a silent grudge against the natives and vise-versa. With Victor caught in the middle of it.