Hey guys, I'm new at this so please go easy on me, please. If there are any confusions please message me.
(I am aware of historical inaccuracies) Don't like Original Characters? Boohoo, don't read.
The girl was strange, and she knew, through the streets of Boston, she stalked her own shadows and the people glared at her as if she didn't belong. One glance, everyone knew she was not from this side of the world. And it's true, she wasn't. She was merely a slave, captured by the French, back in what is today, Vietnam. Taken by the soldiers, pushed into this pointless war in the colonies, she wasn't even a boy…and at first this bothered her, she wished to be treated like a woman, like the woman in the marketplace. But they told her that she behaves like an arrogant boy, so will be treated as one. So far she's gotten used to it…
She brushed away the loose strands of hair in front of her face that had escaped her low ponytail. Her pitch-black hair was dull and damp, drenched in sweat, her pale, yellow-tinted skin scraped up and stained with wet dirt and blood. Dressed in the standard continental soldier's uniform, she stripped off layers of the coat. The girl was treated like a dog, so she ran away from the battalion in the middle of the night…she collapsed to the ground and panted, the French soldiers, the continental soldiers, the town's militia, were all looking for her, or at least keeping an eye out for her. Why would they care so much for a slave?
Painful memories shot back into her mind. Why would they care so much for an ignorant slave girl like me?
I looked around, and ran off into the woods. All I want to do is go home. Back to where I knew I belonged. I ran away, so what is this? Treason? Mutiny? Betrayal? I don't know, but whatever this is…they'll certainly string me up for this. After years of farm work back home, and military training here, I've grown stronger, and taller than most of the civilians. But still I've been rejected nearly all my life. Though I was lucky enough to grow up in a happy family, I am never happy because the French took me away from the ones I really loved. And one day they will pay for dragging me into this war.
The bright sunlight was not as hot as back home, but still affects us no matter what. I ignored the sweat that trickled down my face, just keep running. I fall to my knees, and cry out in frustration though no one can hear me; my hands feel around for anything to help me get back up. But it was useless. I cursed at the sun and at the whole damn world as it turned into a thick black haze haunted
echoes of my mother's voice telling me in Vietnamese that I was crushing the rice paddies made me laugh out loud as consciousness faded away, the voices fade and
all I hear left is the strange English name the French had given me…Tiffany.