He was in a vast field surrounded by grasses and beautiful people of his tribe who were gathering veggies and herbs for a meal, the sky a bright blue which only emanated the beauty of the natural land around him. He couldn't help but smile and take in a deep breath of the landscape.
"Dear child of mine, what am I ever going to do with you?" There was a woman next to him who was carrying a self-weaved basket that held a great amount of greens and berries that she had harvested.
She had beautiful long brown hair that was braided into a long braid that reached her lower back. She wore a leather shawl decorated with beads and a simple yet endearing pattern. She had a plethora of beads around her neck and the rest of her body was covered in what looked like a long robe that was made by her own hand.
The son could feel an intense love for this woman, but who she was evaded his memory.
"I'm no child! I'm practically a man" he joked.
"Oh, you are much older than the average man, but you are still a child to me."
"That's because you're as old as dirt."
She shot him a look and then walked to him. She was a good head taller than him. "You're lucky you are who you are child."
She put an arm around him and they walked back to a tribe of people who were doing a variety of things from weaving baskets, preparing animals, creating bowl and pots, or just simply having fun and enjoying each other's time. The two of them walked through and sat the basket down so the two could talk to each other.
"You're growing up so quickly! Soon you'll be as tall as I am." She ruffled his brown hair.
"Ah mother!" He felt a little pink in the face by her motherly care. "I'm too old for this."
"You're never too old for love." She smiled, but it was shattered when there was a villager running as quickly as he could to the mother.
"There are strange men and boats on the shore, same story as it was up north."
Her face went pale, though the son, who knew nothing of the situation, was simply confused. He just watched as his mother and the man left to investigate. Had he known what this meant for the future he would have been more afraid.
The following weeks these strange men came to their land and spread a sickness among the people, the son's tribe shrinking by horrifying amounts. Then, as though that wasn't enough, the men came to their village and demanded to be paid for being on THEIR land as if they owned it. My mother was stern with them even though they had strange weapons with them, but that only angered them. He remembers that night well.
That night, as the children slept and the adults prepared to rest their weary heads, the sound of rampaging beasts came through the village, setting the homes on fire and killing those that came into their sights. The mother, horrified, took out a bow and arrow and began to defend the village, but there were too many. She had left her son in their home, but he grew more and more afraid for his mother's safety, so he left the hut to see a dreadful sight.
People running and screaming as their homes were set ablaze. One girl who was in her teens was dragged down a path with a man holding onto her hair in a fist as he rode a horse, her screams echoing.
"Mother!" He screamed, running through the chaos to try and find her.
"Mother!" A home next to him collapsed in a fire, the insides revealing that a young child had been inside.
The son felt as though he wanted to throw up.
"You there! Boy." The son looked up and saw a pale faced man with a strange accent and short blond hair riding a horse and pointing a sword at him.
The son took a step back, horrified. The man lifted his sword but before he swung an arrow shot the sword out of his hand and then another landed in his torso.
"Son of a bitch!" He shouted.
"Son!" The mother ran to him and cradled him. "You have to run. You have to go."
"Mother no!"
"Shhh shhh. Listen, if these men take over our lands then you will find yourself as someone new. Find your brother who lives higher in the may be frightened but just keep moving forward. Now go! GO! You must fight for this land as I have and must for these people. Go, GO!" She screamed at him to go and soon he was running off into the woods, tears running down his face.
He looked back for a short moment and saw his mother fighting another man with long blond hair, the short haired man struggling back up and trying to find his sword. The son stopped and wanted to go back to her, but the chaos was too much and the boy found himself swept with the panic and anger. He kept running and running until he hit the forest where he slowed and finally threw up.
"Mother" he sobbed.
The days, or weeks, went on as he wandered, his mind and height slowly leaving him. It first started out that he did not recognize his face in a reflection, but soon he could not even remember who he was or what he was doing. It was an agonizing process for he wished to never forget his mother or his home, but there was no stopping the destruction. It was as if a hand had gone into his mind and warped his memories. Slowly he began to digress in age and, soon, he was no longer who he once was.
Then one day as he wandered he saw two men, one with long blond hair and one with short and raggedy blond hair fighting; as curious as he was he snuck to the two.
America they had called him.
But what was his name before?
His mother he used to remember simply as the mother of the land and he the son of the people and culture of this land, but as the land was taken his mother became weakened in her battles and he had become what the new land was to be. Only, he would never remember anything prior to "America".
(Thank you so much for reading. Reviews are loved and remember you all are fabulous. Thank you again)