Childhood

by Blackwell-Triplets

This is the Journal, written by a boy in a forgotten village in England. It tells of the attempted suiside of this forsaken boy branded as an outcast. The only people who love him are dead.

10. Chapter 10

April 28, 1601

I spent my last two coins on a loaf of bread from a passing merchant. I was cheated of my money but I either had to buy the bread or died from starvation. I didn't like the look of that merchant; he was dark like Brainard and had a dominating air about him. He seemed to think that I was some type of beggar.

It is nice not having any place to hurry off to. I can stop whenever I want and go anywhere that I want to. Soon I will turn off this wretched path and go somewhere without a road. I have no more money, and no more will to live. I could lay down right here and die if I wanted to. But, something is pressing me onwards, pressing me to keep moving before it is too late. I said that it is nice not having anywhere specific to go, but I do think that I am going somewhere, even if I know not what or where that somewhere is. Also I do not think that it would be appropriate for the son of a soldier to die in the middle of an open road.