Suspect
"Now, I want you all to find out about your family tree and write an essay about one of your ancestors." said Mrs. Morningside, from her pine desk up at the top of the class room. She gave her class a deathly glare, looking out of her fake Gucci glasses. She gave a knowing glance in my direction; "Now as you all know, this paper should be at least four to five pages long and must be handed in before term is finished."
Just then the bell rang. I grumpily got out of my cold, hard desk chair and made my way, clumsily, out to the student car park were my beloved truck waited. Today was Friday, and the sun shone brightly over the small town of Bon Temps. This weekend, I am staying at my Granny May's because my parents are on a weekend away to New York.
Once I got to Granny May's house, I was welcomed by her dog, Jack. There Granny stood, under the old oak tree, dating back to the Civil War. I ran up to my doting Grandmother for a bear hug.
"Oh, dear! Well, I do believe you get more beautiful every time I see you!" she exclaims, taking in my long auburn hair and green as grass eyes.
I blushed under her proud gaze. She smiled.
"Well, Granny, I do believe that you become blinder every time I see you." I retorted back.
"Don't give me cheek, Sara Compton." She scolds.
After unpacking my things in the spare room, I asked Granny if I could have a snoop around the attic. Of course, she agrees.
After a few hours, I am extremely tired. I notice something at the corner of my eye. I look closer and identify it as a diary. The pages were yellowing with age and held together with a leather cover. There were initials- I presume because it had the letters 'P.C'. Then I remembered my Granny telling us about her great-grandfather- Patrick Compton- this must be his diary! Granny said that he served in the Confederate Army in the Civil War.
I opened the ancient book and read the entry for that page:-
2nd June 1864 10 o'clock,
This is absolute chaos! General Johnston is a complete idiot to let John out onto the battle field- he's only sixteen, with his whole life ahead of him. Later, John had got shot in the leg just over an hour ago. We can't get to him because the sun is high in the sky, signalling it's around midday. We can't leave the barricade unless you want to die.
"Why won't he keep quiet? He'll attract unwanted attention!" Jasper snarled under his breath at me.
"He's in pain, what do expect?" I said back with a hint of sarcasm. I looked at Jasper challenging, weighing him up- he may be higher in the ranks than me but I had more military experience than him.
"Help me, please!" John screamed again.
"Oh, God. We have to help him, Pat." Jasper pleaded with me, suddenly with a change of character. I looked at him with new eyes- where was the war hungry twenty-year old I befriended at the start of the war? Now, as I look at him, there is compassion in his baby blue eyes.
"You can't do that. The Union will spot and shoot you!" I whispered quickly to him. I stared at Jasper with eyes of stone. I was set in my ways, if he wanted to put himself at death's door, I was going to do my dammed hardest to try and stop him. I let go of my breath I was holding in a long sigh, but before I could say anything, Jasper had picked up his shot-gun and ran out in to no-man's land to save John.
"No, Jasper! Come back!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. It was too late. I heard a gun go off and Jasper go down. I cursed John to the fiery pits of Hell.
I saw Jasper's dead corpse lying in the tall grass. His body bleeding on to the hard, dry ground.
Silent tears fell down my dirty face like a stream, leaving a trail of dampness.
When darkness fell, some men and I headed out to retrieve John. They carried him balk to base. I was only interested in one thing and that was to get Jasper's body back to Bon Temps because he deserves a proper funeral.
I stared down at his now cold, pale corps.
"Why didn't you listen to me?" I pleaded with the body
Patrick Compton.
The diary fell from my grasp and fell to the floor with a loud thud.
"Granny May!" I yelled.
I raced down the stairs like a demented cheetah into the kitchen to find Granny May standing at her usual place beside the cooker.
"What dear? What's wrong?" Granny franticly asked.
"Who is Jasper?" I asked, breathing heavily.
She looked at me as though I had two heads.
"He was Patrick Compton's friend." I elaborated.
By Jessica Storey.