February 17, 1601 B.C
Dear Journal,
It is my son’s third birthday. I have been anxious to write once more, but it has been hard to get back. Last night, I told Detroanion a story for his birthday. It was “How Agosmith met Thomas Conlorton”. It’s his favorite story, even the part about how Thomas Conlorton was killed by my mother’s tribe. He loves it all. And sometimes it frightens me that he would like the killing and the pain best. But that’s what Detroanion means, Warrior. My father says he has to be strong, fight hard, and never back down from a challenge. He wants him to be a warrior in and out, and that is what he will be. My father has wrongly angered me, for he plans to take Detroanion away from me to start his training. Zachariah sides with my father, which angers me more. My father is brutal, and he will not rest until my baby is drove into the ground from exhaustion. Detroanion may have a short life ahead of him, if my father is involved. No one knows this better than I, except maybe Thomas Conlorton. I watched Thomas burn alive on that awful day, 2 months ago. He was a lone farmer, his wife and he. They had plenty of land, and didn’t mind to share it with my family and I. Until the day my mother’s village caught up with us and burned Thomas and his wife at the stake. The smell was terrible, and the sight, oh the sight, was much much worst. I shielded Detroanion’s eyes from it, but I could not protect him from the smell. A stench so foul it turns my stomach now, just thinking about it. Their shrieks came through the night, clear as the moon. I couldn’t imagine the pain and suffering they were going through. It broke my heart to watch my father do nothing as those nice people burned for our doing. It was just sickening. I told Detroanion to never let someone take the blame for something he had done, ever! Immediately he told me he was the one who ate the leftover fish and not the cat, I had told him the cat ran away because my father killed it for eating the fish…. Anyway, I was so proud of him. I just know he will grow up to be a good man. At least I hope he will…
Sincerely,
Moctanan
Copyright © 2011 Amanda Woodson. All rights reserved.