A/N: This is based off a creek I ran into in Quantico Town. (And no, it didn't have a name so I call it Brown point) Last time I visited there, LONG time ago, it had all this debris. So I wrote a short story aaaaannnnnnndddd it turned into fan fiction.
Brown point has been many things.
First was a harbor. Peaceful, fishermen fished and joked. Good times. Children played happily, looking for crawfish, shells, and getting their feet wet. Eventually the harbor was abandoned as life grew faster and people moved on. Leaving clay remnants, bricks, and drift wood.
The second was a city. Concrete and bridges, bustle and bother. Car noises, honking, and people yelling. Busy times. Hardly anyone stopped by the trickling creek in front of the bay anymore. And then hardly a hop, skip, and a bike ride away another city grew up. The old one was considered inconvenient and tore down to make room for a new park in Quantico Town. Big concrete slabs, bridge pieces, and pipes were left. They mucked up the little creek now a slight swamp.
The third was a war ground. The independents or Browncoats fought in the streets for freedom from the Alliance. The tides swept away fighters of both sides. Sad times. Many men died fighting for freedom. Browncoats were cut off and slaughtered by the high tech Alliance. The fighting of Brown point was indecisive. One day the independents had the upper ground and then the Alliance would launch a counter strike. Back and forth until the Alliance decided that a counter-counter-counter-counter-counter attack was stupid. The battle was over and the Alliance won after the crushing defeat of Serenity Valley. Twisted metal, ruins of trees, cracked tires, and scarred ground were the only marking of history.
The fourth was a graveyard. The Browncoats rose again and defeated the Alliance once and for all. The battle of Brown point became a memorial to the first war. Honest Times. Gravestones by the thousands in a peaceful little cove by rushing water and small marshy grasses. Many visited their long dead relations and friends graves that had fought to free them. But it was swallowed by water in a flood and forgotten.
The fifth and final was park. The water drained away. Grass and trees waving in the wind. A beach by a bay. Ruins of its past scarred around and buried in the water only visible in a low tide. The crawfish children had once hunted, hid in the cracks of rocks in a harbor on the same beach side. Modern Times. Children pick around for interesting things and play stories. Dogs play fetch and feral cats roam the woods.
Yes, Brown point has seen many many things and will most likely see many more