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POV: Destruction of Abame

Hi all! Another English short story here. The objective was to write a different POV of someone in the book "Things Fall Apart" by Achebe Chua. Thank you.

*1st Person POV: Tom Rogers*

(A short story alternative to the destruction of Abame; I made up characters for this.)

"Those savages, we have killed them; we upheld God's will and destroyed the evil that harmed His honorable messengers. We can rejoice now."

My heart froze at those words- I didn't dare utter as word as my uncle (father's brother), the lead missionary, spoke. I held back tears as the horrific news shattered my reality.

How could they?

These innocent people were not savages, they were natives who did not comprehend our culture. The word of any "God" should be to love and spread such love; to embrace such differences and educate, never to murder or invade. Though cruel of those "savages" to murder a missionary, I found it unexpected, for it is probable that they were frightened by our mysterious forces.

"You hear that, son? Our Glorious Father's fate has fallen on to us! We have saved His path," My father and brothers approached me, speaking in religious tongues, their glory of fulfillment evident. I remained silent, eyes narrowed. My brothers looked confused, and quickly departed the area upon seeing our father's queues. I held my gaze afar, the room now empty as the others left to go to the church; I dare not look into his eyes unless I am to speak.

Father raised an eyebrow and cleared his throat, "I said, Our Lord's fate has fallen in our hands and we have saved Him."

"I know," I murmured, continuing to hold my gaze to avoidance.

"Is that not wonderful to you, son? You are a son of God before you are mine. If you are not His, you are no longer mine."

I didn't reply.

I couldn't bring myself to.

Flashbacks raced through my mind, whirling my reality. I still remember the beautiful face of one of the village girls when we first arrived. The village was Abame, and I was there to help spread the word of "God" to the people. Her name was Adaeze; a name that meant "princess," or "daughter of a king." And she was just all that. Her dark brown eyes pierced my soul in the way it pierced my heart. Her braids were stunning and intricate, and her kind gestures melted my heart in the midst of this horrific era.

Horrific at the fault of my own people, never these innocent natives.

Adaeze shared her world with me. Her culture, her food, her beliefs... and I gladly took it upon myself to share mine. She told me my blue eyes reminded her of the birds in the sky, and that the uplifted her spirits; my blonde hair was like the sun, and it allowed her to shine. We sat at night together and stargazed, embracing the common ancestors in which we believed in.

Togetherness.

We shared and united our differences.

Unity.

I embraced her for who she was, as she did me. I did not speak her language, and she barely spoke mine; yet we did not care, this shimmer was too strong.

Lovers.

I couldn't bring myself to face my father nor the other missionaries. I fled from our settlement, never looking back. I would never forgive them for this; they took her away from me. I would run until I reached the stars; to be amongst them with her by my side. Their screams echoed behind me, but the loss of the church would never give any amount to the loss of my lover.

My lover, Adaeze.

Tragedy.