The winter of 1773 was a cold and bitter one. Several thousand people lost their lives thanks to poor supply and bitter cold nights. M, was no different. She was very young, only 16 years old and a child from a commonwealth home. Her father was a feared vile man and her mother was an angel sent to the heavens long before any memory of her could be made.
It was the week before a new beginning and although the air hung almost frozen in place there was a shimmer to it. A new year, new opportunities, new things to learn about this new land. The land her family owned wasn't much but it was just enough that they could live.
In their small colony of English peoples. Of course this had also been the year of the infamous Boston Tea Party, and her father had very strong words to say about the "rebels".
It was nearing dusk and M knew she needed to head home to fix her father's supper. She'd been doing this since she could remember; not having siblings made her a primary target for her father's rage.
Of course things had been changing over the course of her short life but her father cherished the old ways. He wanted them to go back to the father land and live but he'd been overruled by his since passed beloved. Then he'd had to raise her.
Shivering and shaking from the cold she hurried down the deserted cobblestone toward home. Except she didn't make it. A few blocks away she doubled over as a gust of strong bitter wind rose up around her. It nearly knocked her to her hands and knees.
Her eyes glazed over and her lips turned blue. In the next instant she'd frozen to death.
YOU ARE READING
Not Such A Bad Boy
RomanceShe was the girl who danced in the light; he was the boy that watched from the shadows.
