No Longer an Ocean Away

Dear Abigail,

I regret ever taking that journey I took 13 years ago. But the master had told me, that dreadful day that I left you that we would both leave in search of riches and wealth. And now, it is clearer than ever that I shouldn’t have left, because that promise the master had made, was nothing but guile. He has worked me, almost to the point of complete starvation.

Our plan to come to this world did not turn out as easy as we thought. The supply of food is dwindling, for the wealthier people , like the master, refuse to work and find food. Since the master is one of them, he requires of me to do all his tasks. But the news of your soon to be arrival has lifted my spirits. Now the only thing I have to look forward to is you coming. Although you are leaving for the Plymouth colony, and I am settled in Jamestown, knowing that you are some miles away comforts me.
         The persecutions in England, I’ve heard, are becoming more frequent .And I couldn’t bear thinking that you might be in danger.  It is imperative that you come before anything happens to you. I am blissful to know that you are leaving for Plymouth. Your religious beliefs will be welcomed and accepted. You will no longer have the disposition of feeling exposed to any possible danger. 

Your journey is sure to be successful. You have been planning it for months and it is nowhere close to spontaneous. It seems all is perfectly worked out and I will be looking  forward to  more frequent letters from you , now that you won’t be a ocean away. I am eager for your arrival. I wish you the best on your voyage.

                  

Sincerely,
Jack 

No Sleep

                   The boy has been with me years, day and night. But never had I felt more kindness and loyalty from him. The boy was there whenever I needed something. I would feel dehydrated at night, the boy would offer me water, I would want a book from downstairs, the boy, he was there, to do or retrieve anything I wanted.
                 That night after I had shut my window- because I derived that if I didn’t a robber might slip into my house- I took out my inventory of pills and felt them go down my throat as I filled my mouth with water.

                 I lay in bed and turned the light off, but that night, no sleep came. I sensed tension in  the air  and the air was thick,as I surmised that someone was in my room, but I could only surmise, the room was pitch black. I made and endeavor to fall asleep, but like I said, no sleep came that night.
                Feeling that there was a presence in my room electrified my senses, and any sound, no matter how small, startled me. By then I figured the boy was the one I was feeling the presence of. Gingerly, I turned around in bed with no sudden movements, so that the boy wouldn’t know I was awake. I simulated to be asleep, but my heart gave regular hits against my chest rapidly, and it only seemed to increase in speed with every second that passed. With one quick jolt I sat up in bed and screamed to anyone, assuming it was the boy that was in my room. No answer, I lay back, just wishing to be able to fall asleep; but no sleep came that night.

                I closed my eyes just yearning for nothing more than sleep. But instead saw the door being flung open, the boy leaped into the room, light pervaded, and the boys face, oh that boy’s face, his eyes were wild.   With one cursory movement he flipped the bed, which one second ago I was laying in, over me. I was clad under the heavy weight. I felt a grimace come across my face and gritted my teeth as I experienced gruesome pain coming from my knee where the bed had made an abrasion. I felt my raw skin on my knee burn, I gasped for air, tried to lift the bed, but I had to succumb. That boy had been so kind to me, and if it was killing me that pleased him, then I would not argue. But killing me and not letting guilt get to him was another story.