Hola! So, yeah, here’s the next bit… I personally like the ending of my book, and this is what I would call “the beginning of the end” so I hope you like it too! Please please please vote! And please comment, you guys, I know I’ve said it like a million and seven times, but I mean it! I want to know what you think! Even if it’s harsh, hey I can take it, I promise. So pleaseeeeeeee comment… tell me what you think! You can tell me its crap for all I care, just make an effort to tell me that!
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Thursday, December 5th, 1720
Dear little book,
I am crushed. Crushed.
I cannot believe it. After all that time I spent worried sick that he was dead, he walks out like that? I feel like crying, but I’m not going to.
I cannot help thinking about what he said. I know I am an aristocrat but considering how Mama was poor in New Spain… I am not that bad. Compared to other people in our town, we are not that rich.
I do not understand it.
I cannot help my birth and neither can David so I do not see why he makes such a big fuss about it. I wish I had not been born as I have… although, knowing the twists and turns of life, I probably would never have had all this happen to me and would have led a very boring and miserable life.
I am not sure if I prefer the alternative.
Sunday, December 8th, 1720
Dear little book,
Today was bright and sunny, not a cloud in the clear blue sky. I was restless, to say the least. I was helping Mama sew a quilt for the baby, and she started to talk to me.
“Annie,” she said, “who was that boy?”
It took me a moment to understand whom she was talking about. “Oh, David,” I said. “He was on the William with me.”
Mama sighed. “I know that,” she said gently. “But who is he, exactly? From where does he come? What family?”
I frowned. Another thing about what family you are born into. I thought Mama would be impartial about those things. “He is from America,” I explained, as calmly as I could. “And I do not know about his family… all I know is that his mother is dead and his father deserted him.” I decided it would not be wise to mention the fact that his father was probably dead as well, consumed by alcohol.
“I see.” Mama’s tone had stiffened.
I looked at her. “He cannot help being born like that, Mama. Just like I cannot help being born into this family.”
“I know,” Mama said gently, “but I think it would be best if you stayed away from him. I do not think he has good intentions… and he does not dress well.”
“Mama!” I said in annoyance. “He cannot help it, it is how sailors dress. And he does not have the money to buy fancy clothes.” It hurt to say, but it is true.
Mama just nodded. “I will not argue with you, Annie. I am just warning you.”
“He was my best friend for four months,” I said softly. “I trust him with my life, and with good measure, too, because he saved my life.”
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YOU ARE READING
A Weather Eye on the Horizon
Historical FictionThe year is 1720. Annie VanElslander has only known one thing in life - life on Barbados, the island in the Caribbean on which she lives. Then the "William" and Jack Rackham and his crew pick her up and her life changes forever.