This story is about English convicts coming to Australia. IT DOES NOT REFLECT MY VIEWS ON THIS EVENT IN ANY WAY!
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The soft breeze gently shakes the trees, creating the reassuring buzzing sound of the bush. I roll my bare feet in the dirt and close my eyes, feeling the freeness of this new land. I dream I am a bird, soaring over mountains and oceans, with no worries and no restrictions. I can do anything. Then mother calls me inside.
My mother dies not like for me to be outside on my own for so long. She thinks that if I stay out for more than an hour or two the natives, the Aboriginals will take me away from her and I will be lost. Almost all of the people who have arrived here from England are either scared or angry at the Aboriginals, but most people are just confused, and don’t know what to think. This leads to being angry and scared. I take one long deep breath of the clean fresh air, trying to take in the magnificent landscape. Every dead branch, every blade of grass. Then I turn and dash inside to my mother.
Living in a new land is difficult. There is so much work to be done, both for child and adult. While the men grow the crops and bravely face the Natives, the children and women cook, clean and create weapons for the family to protect themselves. This is the part that I and my sister Nellie despise, as mother is always calling us away from our own activities and using us to help her. Nellie runs straight to her without any complaint, but I always seem to get into trouble by arguing. Sometimes Nellie argues too, although her protests are for some reason taken more seriously than mine.
A long ragged tear ran up my dress, reaching from the end to my knee. This was a result of the tree climbing that I had done earlier, which momma would have never approved of. I scrunch up my dress as I hop into the bedroom where momma and Nellie are waiting for me. I pretend to look innocent.
“What took so long?” Momma snapped. She looked at me with fury. “And you’ve torn your dress.”
Drat, she noticed. Nellie narrowed her eyes at me, apparently also disappointed. Her arms were folded tightly and her plump lips were upturned. In any other circumstance I would have stuck my tongue out at her, but under mother’s watchful eye I held back.
Nellie was always trying to act older than she was. I held my head high, and gulped. Nellie smirked at me as Momma started fussing about how I ‘should take better care of my things’, ‘must be more careful’ and ‘not be such a child.’ I scowled as I watched the sick enjoyment on Nellie’s face.
That night at dinner, father was in a foul mood. His face was stern and hard from when he walked in the door until now, and he hadn’t even stopped to kiss momma hello. Or give us a hug. Or take off his gun. He had marched right inside the house with a creul look of determination on his face. Nellie and I knew better than to get in his way, so we left the room and listened to our parent’s conversation from the other side of the door.
“Bloody natives. They just won’t agree with us.” That was from my father.
My momma was silent.
