Changing Seasons

Chapter 6- My Future

It was the season of life* 4 years later, although with all the Europeans around I didn't see much life except for the strange big gentle creatures called cows grazing on the grassed clearings. By now they had built hundreds of small makeshift huts and more people were turning up every season from big crafts I now know are called 'boats'. The huts were being replaced by bigger buildings called houses and other places called shops where the Europeans traded small round rocks for household items. The Europeans called us the aboriginals then caught a large majority of the tribes in the area and forcing them to work, but they didn't catch father. I've settled down here but I still don't like my life and every time I look at Jonathan's scale I think of home, my tribe and...father, even though he doesn't want me I still love and miss him and I wish him good luck in not getting caught every night...

It was morning and I was up earlier than everyone else watching the sun rise over the sea when Anne barged into my room and started yelling at me in their strange language, I've learnt a lot of it but it still confuses me. So I looked at her in a confused way because I had really no idea what she was saying. She sighed and shook her head then pulled out a set of clothes and told me to start packing. She told me that now that I was 16 I would have to move out and start my own life somewhere in the town, I didn't know what to do, there were so many homeless aboriginals wandering the streets starving, was I to become like them?

I was homeless for 5 months 3 weeks and 5 days until I found a job at a local orphanage. Because I could only speak limited English it was my job to take care of the aboriginal children and translate for the Europeans.

I had been working there for 1 year when the Europeans announced that the final aboriginal man from a tribe just off the edge of the city had finally been caught and killed. I instantly knew it had to be father and felt the sadness immediately. It drilled straight through my heart and that night instead of wishing him good luck I wished him peace and comfort and never prayed for anyone ever again.

As my English got better I helped many children through their hard years at the

Orphanage until they were old enough to leave, get a job or, if very lucky, a family took them in. Many didn't live or became sick because of the diseases the Europeans brought over and they didn't care if any of us died because they thought we were just a nuisance trying to demolish their plan to build a new country. By then the Europeans had taken over a lot of the east coast of Australia and were discovering more and moving on faster than a fleeing kangaroo.

On my twentieth birthday I graded up to being the manager of the aboriginal children at the orphanage but didn't get payed anything, though I didn't mind because I slept, ate and lived at the orphanage.

At twenty-two I became a well-respected member of the community and graded up again in my job to be part owner of the orphanage facility, I also perfected my second language, English and took another job part time as a translator, even though I had such a high position for an aboriginal I was still looked at differently and the Europeans talked behind my back but for the first time I liked my life.