The Devil Inside

Chapter One: The Accident

“Oh who would’ve thought I would live such a wonderful. Now I’m fighting for the colonies against the British. I am a patriot, not red coat. Red was never my favorite color anyways. The world has changed over the years. My company is planning on attacking the coming red coats soon. That means I could leave this village, the scents I smell are foul. There’s word of creatures that linger in the night. Are they that scare of facing the redcoats? But it’s only talk to scare us.  There are too many fights here. Get me out of this **** hole. I write this because one day I will be one of the men they tell stories about how I was brave on the battlefield?”

Ever so grateful,

Garrett

Garret slowly closed his journal and placed the quill in the ink jar. A small sigh was released. His hands ran through his hair as he began to stress. The slight shaking of his hands was not helping in the situation. A question he kept asking himself would never be answered. He may never return home. Many wanted to stay away from home, but he wanted to go back. Conflict raged throughout the colonies. It is not the end thought; humanity rebuilds itself all the time. Sometimes history repeats itself. But he wouldn’t let that bring him down. Garrett believed in the colonies right to self-govern, a true believer of the American dream.

A slight knock was made on the door, Garrett’s eyes looked over to the door. Now who would visit at such an honor, he asked himself. Slowly and quietly he stood up to answer the door. His feet began to pick up the pace, as he got closer to the door. Garrett opened the door and took a deep breath.

“Allen, what ever is wrong?”  Garrett asked.

A young gentleman in his late twenties, stood upon Garrett. He was soaked from the rain he had walked in. He dropped to the ground before he could even speak. Now Garrett understood why someone was there so late, he was running from someone.

“Allen?” He asked again, trying to resurrect his dead companion.

Garrett took Allen’s jacket off and unbuttoned his shirt. Allen had stab wounds on his back that travelled to his chest. His hands were covered in blood. He shouted for help as he attempted to wake Allen back up. Allen’s heart was still beating, but the beats decreased the longer he laid on the ground. Some of the village people came over to assist him, while others looked for a doctor.

“Stay with me, Allen. We need you in the company. You’re one of our best soldiers.” Garret begged.

He looked around for any suspicious people in the distance, but nobody stood out. The doctor finally arrived but it was too late. Garrett rinsed his hands off. As the doctor pronounced Allen dead, Garrett began to loose it. He needed to stay calm, and tell the others who were at the pub when he left. They needed to leave before the village people began to point their fingers at them. The redcoats were closing it on them. Allen was the land scout for the company. He was keeping an eye out; it’s the only explanation of why he got killed. Garrett ran out the back and hurried to the pub.

“Garrett, what’s the rush? I thought you went to rest.” The leader, James asked.

Garrett forgot to change out of his blood white shirt. James stood up and his eyes widened at the state the young lad’s shirt was in.

“Allen, came in a hurry to where I was staying. I welcomed him and he fell dead to the ground. I fear only the worst; it must’ve been the redcoats. The village people have no reason to kill us if we’re fighting for them. We need to hurry with this plan before the redcoats get here.” Garrett called out.

James looked at the others; quickly he left the money for their drinks before rushing out of the pub. Garrett followed them and went back to where he was staying to grab their belongings.

“Garrett, meet us in the woods. Go armed this time. We must catch up with the others before the British get her.” James exclaimed as he walked in seeing where Allen had laid when he died.

Garrett nodded and rushed into the woods unseen waiting for the others. It was freezing cold outside even with two layers of clothing on. His teeth grinding against one another, shivering. As he waited he took his journal out and began to write again.

“My friend, a brother, a soldier died tonight during what he thought was right to do. The British need to get pay. I cannot stand them any longer, killing those with a dream. Many innocents’ dead. Now we flee this town in fear of dying. But I do not fear death. I will not die in fear. I will die for what I believe in if I must. I am a soldier, fighting for the colonies right to self-govern. Allen died in vein, but he also died in honor. May those who knew him and even strangers he walked among remember him for what he did this night. Soldiers do not flee, we are not cowards. We fight to the death for freedom. Not to be controlled. I will not let the redcoats win this night, or any night anymore.”

Ever grateful,

Garrett.

He heard the others approaching him; he stood up placing his journal back in his bag. His gun was loaded and ready to fire. It was a accident, what happened to Allen was unknown and needed to stay that way for them to keep their heads straight. They lost a friend that night, but they would honor him by defeating the redcoats. Until their last breath, til the last drop of blood is gone. This will not be their last night alive, but it won’t be the first night they lost a brother. They began to walk out of the village and towards where the nearest patriot camp was.

“James, you should be in the front. I do not where which way to go, you know the village better than any of us.” One of the others suggested.

James looked back at him and nodded, Garrett stared back at the village as they continued to travel through the woods. He kept his eyes on the town until he could not longer see it. As they walked, they sang songs they learned back home. Garrett said nothing the whole way.

(End of Chapter One, May Be Extended Later On)