The day I turned sixteen was not only an important one but also horrifying memory. Watching the savages kill every colonist at Roanoke, along with my younger sister, Ana.
She was beautiful with long flowing brown hair and striking blue eyes, the savages didn't agree because they took me hostage to marry me off to their chief. The memories of that day haunt even my best dreams. The sight of a lower looking savage ripping my sister's intestine from a small hole in the lower of her abdomen and bringing it up and around her neck to choke her. Her eyes buldged and her once fair skin turned a violent blue. Her limps went as limp as a bonefish. The sight of Ana's violent blue eyes scared my young mind, once full of life and innocence now only reflected pain and hate.
Each killing was worst then the last. With every killing more blood splattered against the cool grass still damp from the morning dew. Seeing my people killed so brutally devastated me. Chief Big Rock held me back kicking and screaming so I wouldn't try to save someone and end up being killed. The brutality I had to witness that day burned into my brain. They took me back to there camp and beat me. Continuous sticks and rocks hitting me on my stomach and head, legs and arms. Tears fell down cheeks mixing with blood and found there way to my mouth. The salty metallic taste made me wince. I could feel myself beginning to let go. Pop. Thump. Pop. Thump. Pop. The rocks kept flying, another fatal blow hit me in square in my back. Then it stopped. All you could hear was the wind in the trees and my moans of pain. Chief Big Rock came over and kissed two of my bloody tears.
"Today," he began. "I rename this woman Aula. And Take her as my wife."
Cheers filled the meow they were happy that their chief was marrying a white woman! I was to become the next chief wife. But why did he pick me? I was simple middle-class English women. All I wanted was to live away from my parents, so I went to the "new world". Easy as that. A world away from money, power, jewels, and fancy dresses. This was my only chance to write. Back in England any woman who dared to write or read was sent to an insane asylum. They tried so many times to send me away but I would find a way back out.
Chief Big Rock treated me like a queen, letting me read and write, learn the sciences, and never once did he force his strong body apron me. I simply did not love him, at least, not in the beginning.
I remember that one time we fought over one of my memories I told him how I kept seeing my sister's murder and I began to cry. He slapped me across the face and said women of this tribe do not cry over death, they celebrate the life of that person. His wisdom was way beyond his years. My heart ached not only for my baby sister who stowed away on the ship but also for my family back home in England.
In the spring of the Big Moon I became paginate. Due to the ancient customs I had to stay working through the full of my pregnancy. Everyday the work load grew, making me and my child stronger. As the moons grew and my stomach and breasts tender and swelled. Soon my once small, flat abdomen was a large ball slowing down my speed. With every day not only did my weight increase but also the amount of sleep I needed. My hips widened making it easier for childbirth.
During the deep fall I awoke with a wet bed and a deep piercing pain in my stomach. Scared I screamed for my husband. He entered rapidly into my tent, with a deep laugh in his voice he told me that I was in labor. It wasn't until about noon when my child removed itself from my body. The baby was blue and quite strange looking. My breathing became heavy and my sister's face came into mind. Alone with my screeching baby girl. The only thing that I could do save my baby. So I placed my left hand over mouth and face. Tears streamed down my eyes as I killed my first child. I was saving her from a life to horrifying for any child to ever have to endure. An endless steam of white means bodies being chopped up and eaten. I named her Anna after my dead sister; her eyes opened wide, her whole body shaking. My new born Childs limbs went frigid, I screamed for my husband he came in only to see me crying holding my dead, naked daughter against my cheats.
He held me close to his cheats our breaths mixing, with light berths he told me that everything happened for a reason and we could try again. We needed a child to continue on with his work and perfect it. I had saved my child from a life of pain and murder. But my heart was still full of pain how could I have killed my firstborn daughter. That night I prayed for my child to understand and forgive me, along with my all mighty creator God.
For the first time in our one year marriage I slept in my husband's teepee. He held me tight trying to comfort me from the pain of losing my first child. After that night alone with him I truly fell in love with him.
Nearly a year later I gave birth to another child that I named Sunil, after the year she was born. She was beautiful, with the shape of her father but the paleness of her mother. My husband blessed her with the blood of her fore-fathers and announced her arrival. People cheered. They laughed and sang pretending like they ere so happy for me and my husband.
Twenty Years Later
My husband died today. The reign of My husband had ended, and my daughters reign had begun.
to be continued...