Historical Short Story

The start of my journey:

Day 1: I was busy in my kitchen when I heard a loud boom coming from the harbor, I glanced out my
window and saw British ships. They started setting up camp, so I went outside to investigate. They made
an announcement that they are going to be confiscating our weapons. Neither I, nor my husband trusted
them and weren't going to give anything up. They did a thorough search of our house, but our weapons
were well hidden.

Day 2: I woke up to the sound of chaos and rushed to the window to look outside. I soon realized that the
British were here to deport us. I ran to my husband.

“Take our children and go to your old village. Hide out there with your parents. I need to find my sister and
then I will meet you there.”

“I cannot and will not go without you. I’m sure your sister can take care of herself,” he replied.

“Well you're going whether you want to or not. Grab as many supplies and belongings you can and leave
soon. It's not up for discussion!”

He went not so willingly, I said my goodbyes and they left. I went to go find my sister, and I felt like my
heart was going to beat out of my chest. On my way to her house I suddenly was grabbed and dragged
unwillingly onto a ship, I took a glance back and saw my house being burned. The British soldier's hands
were wrapped around my arm so tightly it left a bruise. They were putting us all under the deck, once I
was down I saw my sister and rushed to her with tears running down my face. Realization dawned on me
at that moment that I told my husband I would meet him at the Mi’kmaq village and that I might never see
my husband and our children again. Below the deck was damp, dirty, cold, and overcrowded.

Day 25: We've been at sea for over 3 weeks now I think. It's been hard to keep track since it's so dark
down here we can't tell if it's day or night. The floor has turned into our toilet, and the stench is horrible.
We get very little food, my stomach feels like an empty pit and my sister is growing weaker every day.
More and more people are getting sick and dying and no one cleans up their bodies. It's disgusting down
here, it's dirty, it's freezing, and most of all it's sad. It hurts more and more everyday knowing I might
never get to see my family again. I can feel the dirt on me and in my hair, everyone smells foul. All around
me I see familiar faces knowing that around a month ago we were all at home in our peaceful village. All
we wanted was to just be neutral with the British, but they saw us as untrustworthy.

42: I wake up in chaos to notice we have docked. I don’t know how long it has been, but my best guess is
that it has been over 5 weeks. As I get up onto the deck, I am overcome with sunlight. I haven't seen it in
weeks, the warmth gives me a sense of comfort. I soon find out that we are in New Hampshire and will
become indentured servants. I try to get away, but I am too weak from malnourishment and dehydration. I
try my best to keep my sister by my side, so I wont lose her like I did with my children.

My sister and I eventually got separated, and when I arrived at my masters house I was offered a cold
shower, new clothes, a meal, water, and shelter. The contract I signed stated that I would be an
indentured servant for a total of 7 years then I would be free.
 My life as an indentured servant:
Month 3: My masters have me doing field work and sometimes they have me go out to the village to sell
things or buy items they need. When I go out to the village sometimes, I see my sister and others I knew
from my old village and we occasionally talk. I found out that my sisters, and I’s masters houses aren't
very far apart. I did not have the chance to heal from the journey on the ship, so I am still weak and the
work they have me doing has taken a great toll on my body. I have a decent relationship with my masters,
they occasionally let me take cold showers, when my clothes get raggy I am rewarded with new ones, I
get clean drinking water and sometimes I even get rewarded with a warm meal.

Month 5: I found out a month ago that my sister was carrying an infection from when we were on the ship
and her condition has been worsening. My masters agreed that they would keep me updated on her
condition, and today I found out I will get to see her one last time before she dies. When they told me that
she was about to die it was like my whole world caved in and shattered. My stomach felt like it did one
million backflips as fast as it could, I almost threw up. On the way to my sister, my whole body ached, and
the tears wouldn't stop coming, I could barely see. I’ve lost my home, my village, my husband, my kids,
and the last thing I have left is my sister and now I am going to see her for the last time. We finally made it
to my sister's masters house, they told me where she was and I rushed to her as fast as I could. She had
no color left in her face, she looked frail and too thin, she didn't look human anymore. The only thing that
didn't change was her warm comforting eyes and her welcoming smile. We cried together for what felt like
forever. I’ve never felt this kind of hurt before, when you know you can never see someone ever again,
that you will never get to laugh with them again, never make memories again. I remember when we were
young, and our mother was teaching us to cook and she spilled the milk everywhere and laughed so hard
we could barely breathe, or the countless times we would run through the field with the long grass and
pretty flowers. So many memories of the past but we can't make any more in the future. I held her hand
tight with tears spilling out of my eyes as she said quietly in her weak tired voice:

“Make it back home for me, give your husband and children a hug for me, make more happy memories
for me, I know you will miss me but we will see eachother again in life after death.”

“Rest well my sweet sister, I will miss you dearly” I replied.

Those were the last words my sister and I exchanged before she passed. The hurt took over my body,
and I couldn't move, speak, or even think straight. I sat there holding my sister's hand, crying so much I
couldn't see and my head was pounding. My masters and her old masters were kind enough to let me
stay there for hours while they had tea.

Month 83: For the last 3 months everytime I go into the village I meet up with some of the people from my
old village. We have been making a plan for how we would get home. 4 of us including myself have a
contract of 7 years, and 2 have a contract of 6 years. For the people who have a 6 year contract will
spend a year collecting food and supplies for our journey. My masters were kind enough to give me maps
to study, so for the last 2 months in the very slim free time I have been studying and finding our route
home.

I am still mourning over my sister's death. It still hurts. I also miss my children, my husband and my home,
I can't even explain the overbearing pain I feel. I’ve lost so much and have gained nothing. My body
aches every second of the day from all the work, and I never get enough nutrients or sleep. I’ve made it
though 5 years of this torture, only 2 more to go before my journey home.
 My journey home:
Day 1: We have enough food and supply to last us for our journey. We have weapons, food, a wagon,
and other essential supplies. It will be around 860 km, and my best guess is that it will take roughly 3
weeks of walking. 2 of the people have a really good relationship with their master and were able to get all
of us new warm clothes that will also help us blend in with everyone else. The war is over so it will be a
little bit safer to get home.

Day 11: We started on our painfully long journey home 10 days ago but it will be all worth it when we are
home. We are all terribly tired from lack of sleep, nutrients, dehydration, and the countless hours of
walking. I have been able to keep track of the days but not the hours. One of the girls has grown ill and
does not have enough strength to walk all day, so she is in the wagon most of the time. We ended up
running into a small group of Acadians later today that are going the same direction as us. They have a
better sense of survival skills and have kindly agreed to let us join them. This has given me a spark of
hope to make it home successfully.

Day 17: The girl who was ill unfortunately passed 2 days ago. We had a moment of silence for her but
had to leave her body behind. Leaving her gave me the worst gut wrenching feeling ever. Our wagon
wheel is starting to get wobbly and is making me less hopeful for getting home.

Day 19: When we reached the river, we were able to find someone kind enough to get us over in their
boat. I didn't know how much I trusted them and it felt like my stomach was doing flips over and over
again but I doubt we would ever get an opportunity like this again. We got over safely, and it gave me a
warm feeling that I’m getting closer to seeing my family again. It has been over 7 years since I've seen my
children and husband and I've never wanted anything more than to see them.

Day 27: When I was in the viewing distance of the Mi’kmaq village I have never felt such a feeling, I was
overcome by such a warm, hopeful feeling. As soon as I got there, I knew exactly who my children were
and they knew exactly who I was even though we have all aged 7 years. They looked so much older and
mature. I’ve never felt a happier feeling before. I got hit with this huge delightful, comforting feeling. My
children and I cried together for what felt like eternity. Seeing their faces again and who they have
become is the best feeling in the world. I soon found out that my husband grew depressed over the years
and that his parents were looking after our children since he was no longer able to.

As soon as I was told, my husband was in his parents house, I rushed as fast as I could. I flung open the
door and called his name.

“That can’t really be you, could it?” I heard my husband say.

I quickly navigated his voice while the butterflies in my stomach were going crazy, such a huge mixture of
overbearing complicated feelings. As soon as I laid my eyes on him, I burst into happy tears with a
mixture of laughter. He held my face, looked into my eyes and said:

“I’m so sorry my dear, I gave up all hope I would see you again. This is truly a miracle.”

I said nothing back and I didn’t need to. No words could explain how I was feeling and I knew he knew
that too.
 2 years later:
Today Is the 2 year anniversary of me being home, I could never be more happy. 2 years ago, I was
spending countless hours explaining and answering any questions about what I went through. It took a
really long time to get my husband through depression, but he is doing much better now.We all are. I am
so overjoyed to have my family back together again. We had a ceremony for my sister and the girl who
passed on my journey home. I still experience waves of overbearing sadness sometimes about my
sister's death. I don't think I will ever get over it. I keep reminding myself that I made it home for her. I
know she would be happy for me. What I experienced and went through truly inspired me to live my
happiest life.