TELL ME THE TRUTH

Chapter Four

Chapter Four 

Evangeline Benoit - 1744

"Evangeline, wake up. 'Tis near time to go." A smooth, honey-toned voice said as she gently shook me. Chains rattled behind her. I vaguely recognized the voice as Amandine, the woman who was to go to Jean-Paul Riviére as well.

I sat up slowly and looked around the dark basement. None of the other girls were awake yet. I rubbed my eyes and waited. The fear was sluicing through my blood, and I felt like my life was about to end. Everything passed before my eyes. All of the precious moments that made up my life flitted through my mind. My life had been simple. My parents had died when I was young and my grandparents had raised me. It was happy.

Then the men came to our village.

They went from house to house, breaking down doors and taking people away. The screams woke me up. Grandmére came into my room and told me to wake up. She took me down to the cellar and into a back room that was hidden. She gave me one last kiss and ordered me to stay put, no matter what happened. And then I was alone, in the cool darkness, waiting.

I didn't know how long I was down there, with my knees pulled to my chest and my arms around my legs. I heard when they broke down the front door. I heard when they rushed through the house, breaking things and slamming things around. Someone came into the cellar and threw everything around.

They found the door.

It was wiggled and slammed, but it didn't open. People started shouting, and then I heard my Grandmére screaming. I heard a loud noise, and then a thud. Grandpére made a sound like a wounded animal. I heard him as he screamed and raved to the gods about whatever had happened. Then I heard the noise again.

The door was rammed. It was rammed again and again before it finally flew open. I cowered in my corner as two men crouched inside. One grabbed my ankle and yanked. I slid, my body dragging across the damp dirt. I clawed at the ground frantically, only succeeding in getting the dirt caked up under my nails. Screams ripped from my throat as I was dragged to the small door.

The man yanked me out and held my arms tight enough to bruise. He made me walk back up to the main level and then forced me to look at the ground to my right. Grandmére was lying in a pool of blood, a hole in her forehead that was leaking blood. Grandpére was slumped over her, a similar hole in the back of his head. His hand was clutching Grandmére's.

"That is what happens when you disobey," the man said, shoving me toward the front door. I stumbled, my knees slamming into the hard, cold floor. I was yanked back up by the arms and taken out of the house.

I was chained, along with a lot of other people, and then forced to walk behind one of the men's horses. I didn't even get to watch the home I'd lived in for eight years disappear. I didn't get to say goodbye.

What had happened to me? Why had they taken me? Those questions were in my mind for the long walk. It was only later, after I was taken to the auction house, that I realized. My life was over. I was now property.

The tears began to fall, slowly at first, but then they were streaming down my face and silent sobs were choking up my throat. My body shook with them as I wept for what had happened.

This was my new life, and I could only hope that I would survive it with some modicum of my former self intact.

Amandine rested a warm hand on my back as I wept, whispering platitudes that felt hollow. When I was finally able to stop the tears, I looked up at her, wondering for the first time why she was all the way over here.