Carried Away-Colonist!AmericaxIndian!Reader part16

Reader's POV


You picked at the material in your ridiculously tight, oddly shaped dress as you tried to pay attention. Belle had loaned you one of her dresses for this “special occasion.” It was yellow, and tight and uncomfortable and very strange looking, but Belle had said that it was beautiful and complimented your dark skin and hair. You didn’t really understand what she meant by that, but it was obviously a good thing, so you kept your mouth shut and wore the cumbersome thing.

This was your first day actually going somewhere. Belle had declared you ready to meet the populace of the town, so here you were, attempting to act natural. It was Sunday, and you had been living with Belle and Abel for so long you were losing track of the time. You couldn’t remember how many weeks you’d been there for, but small green heads poking through the dark dirt, the absence of snow and the warming of the air told you spring was beginning.

The previous Sunday, Belle told you that you were going to go to your first church service. You had no idea what that meant, and still didn’t really. All you’d done was sit on an uncomfortable bench and watch an older man with a small beard standing behind a big square wood thing and say a bunch of words you didn’t understand. So, naturally, you’d resorted to looking at the people around you. Some of them were looking at the man with rapt attention, some even with awe, some seemed mildly interested, and others looked much more interested in the things going on around them. Children kept fidgeting, but looks from their parents almost always stilled them. But no matter who you looked at, almost all of them had one thing in common: they kept stealing glances at you. These glances varied from person to person, but for the most part, fear seemed to dominate the looks they were giving you. That and curiosity seemed to be the emotions most directed towards you from those at the church service. But there was one man sitting a few rows behind you and a bit to the left that was unnerving you quite a bit. You could practically feel his eyes boring into the back of your head. From the moment you walked in, throughout the time they sang, and even now, while the apparently important man was speaking, his eyes never left you.

All the other people seemed interesting enough though. There were probably two hundred or so people sitting on the long chair things, and they came in many different sizes and hair colors; there were even a few in the back that had skin darker than yours.

Finally, everyone stood all at the same time and you jumped to keep up with them. They all quoted some words, and then broke apart. It was a strange thing to see. Obviously some command had been given that you hadn’t heard because you were too distracted.

Belle walked out of the strange seat (she called it a pew) and you followed her closely. You noticed Alfred standing to the side immediately. Seeing him here, amongst many people, your intuition was proving right. It had never occurred to you before you were here that there was more than one sort of white man. But as you had been learning the odd language called English, and teaching your own language to Belle and Alfred, you realized that they spoke it in different ways, and when Belle was speaking to her brother or to people who came to visit, she spoke a different language all together. They were from different cultures, similar, but different. Alfred seemed uncomfortable, and most of the people didn’t do more than nod and smile at him.

On the other hand, everyone was staring at you like you were some sort of feral dog. They kept a good foot or two from you and stared at you with wide eyes. Finally, the man who had been speaking came to you and offered his hand. Remembering Belle’s training, you took it awkwardly and he shook it.

“Good day dear,” the man said this with the same sound as Belle did, further confirming your feelings. He introduced himself as Pastor Beyer and spoke in the same hard to understand words he had used when speaking to the entire crowd. You still could barely understand, so you simply nodded your head and smiled uncertainly.

After him, a few other people spoke to you, but most kept their distance. You even noticed some mothers and fathers stopping their children from getting close to you. That made you feel extremely uncomfortable. Were they afraid of you? But why? You hadn’t done anything. You shook your head as you followed Belle out of the building. It was a cute building. Small, square, with a point on the top, and two crisscrossed pieces of wood fastened to it that Belle called a cross. You had noticed several of these all over the place. There were even a few in Belle and Abel’s house.

You stopped short when the man that had been staring at you stepped in front of you. His green eyes burned with hatred, even more so now that he was close. Unintentionally, you took a step back. The two of you stood like that for a moment before Alfred walked up beside you protectively, and Belle joined him on your other side shortly after. The man continued to be silent, but his eyes flicked between the three of you. Suddenly you realized if this man didn’t look like he wanted to snap your neck in half, he might have been very attractive.

“You should not be allowing this trash to live in your house.” The man finally spit in Belle’s direction. His English sounded different from Alfred’s, but different than Belle’s too. You felt Alfred tense beside you, but didn’t take your eyes off the man.

“Antonio,” she snapped back, “We’ve gone over this already. She isn’t dangerous, she’s just a lone girl, and she needs help.”

“She’s a grown woman, and one of them! Do you want what happened last year to happen again?!” His finger was pointing at your chest now, and you barely resisted stepping back again.

“There is no way she would do something like that, even if she could!”

“She is probably a spy for her people! They found a kind hearted woman, you, and dropped her on you, and this traitor is an accomplice! He simply makes the charade easier to believe!” There was a small group of observers now, some looking hostile, and you felt like shrinking into the ground. But you held your head high and remained a proud example of your tribe. One thing bothered you though. Why did this man hate you so much? Alfred grabbed your hand and squeezed it. You sneaked a glance at him, and almost started at the angry look on his face.

“Antonio! Stop that this minute! That’s a lie, and you know it!” Belle yelled, moving to take a step towards him.

“Enough!” Abel said, stepping in-between all of you and cutting off the reply.

The man, Antonio apparently, stared up at Abel, looking almost as if he intended to fight, but didn’t. Instead, he spit something out in a strange sounding language, and then glared past Abel at you.

“Don’t think you’re safe, senorita. I’ll protect this town from your murderous kind.” With that he turned on his heel and walked off, complete confidence evidence in his gait. As you watched his receding back, you couldn’t help but feel uneasy.

“Don’t worry about him,” Belle told you, touching your arm reassuringly.

“Why he hate me? I never met before…”

“He doesn’t hate you, not really. It’s just… last year, there was an Indian attack, and there were a lot of people that died.” She looked after him sadly. “His little brother was one of them.”

“But, my tribe not come near here. We do nothing to white people.”

“I know… He’s just… It really hurt him, and he doesn’t always think straight. Don’t let it trouble you.”

You were beginning to realize that they didn’t seem to notice that there was a difference between each tribe. It didn’t make too much sense to you, since each tribe seemed as different as night and day in your eyes. But, you supposed, it was something like these people. You were having a hard time figuring it out, but you thought that Belle and the town, Alfred, and Antonio were all from different tribes themselves. They all acted different and had strange sounds that didn’t seem to match. But, at the same time, you still grouped them together as white people.

Once again, you stared where Antonio disappeared, and you were glad for Alfred’s comforting grip and the look of murder he shot after Antonio. The feeling of impending doom didn’t seem to be going anywhere.


>~time skip~<


How long had it been? You sighed as you stared up at the incredibly blue sky, now tinged with purple and red. The snow had all melted and the tiny green heads of plants were beginning to poke up out of their beds of dirt. And yet, here you were, sitting in Belle’s garden, watching the green trees sway in the distance and feeling your heart break for the thousandth time. You wanted to go home. More than anything in the world, you wanted to return to your village, see your family, and have everything be normal again, if only for just one day.

You poked at the little green leaves on a yellow flower that had already bloomed. You’d seen these many times. Belle called it a daffodil. You breathed in its sweet scent then stood. You needed to move around. You couldn’t stand it.

Walking slowly along the tree line, happy to be in your own animal skin clothes again (even if they were male and not so comfortable, and technically weren’t yours at all since they were stolen). Did your family miss you as much as you missed them? You couldn’t help but wonder. Did they even think you were alive anymore? There really was no telling.

For almost an hour you wandered along the trees, partially considering taking off into them. But you didn’t even know if that was the right way to go to get home. All you knew for sure was that you had gone through mountains, and you were fairly certain you’d gone north. Why had you gotten so turned around? You should have paid more attention.

“Senorita.”

You almost jumped, but didn’t, and turned to face the tall, tan, brown haired man. Swallowing, you met his fierce gaze. Then, to your horror, you noticed tall figures beginning to move out of the gathering shadows of dusk. There were now men flanking Antonio, and a few surrounding you as well. They all directed hate-filled gazes at you.

Silently, you stared back, forcing a calm demeanor.

“Your ‘people’ killed my little brother!” he took a threatening step forward. “What do you have to say in your defense?!”

“I-I never touch your brother. My people not either.”

“Lying dog!” one of the men with Antonio stepped forward angrily. “I saw one of your kind! I saw them kill my wife! I saw you!” The crowd around him stirred angrily and muttered amongst themselves.

“It not my tribe!” you cried, dropping all pretense of courage. You were in a dangerous situation, and keeping your cool wasn’t going to make a difference. “We not do this thing!”

“Liar!” They were getting more worked up and the hairs on your neck stood erect, screaming danger at you. You scanned the area, looking, hoping for a way to escape. The forest was barely ten feet away. You could make a dash for it, if only your antagonists would allow themselves to be distracted.

In your examination of the area, you couldn’t help but notice Antonio. He was still, quiet. Most definitely, this gave him a deadly air, but somehow it made him seem more human, more civilized than the rest.

One of the men, one of the ones who had been more enthusiastic in his yelling, approached you. Sliding back a step or two, you watched him approach, the hatred shining in his eyes. Your instincts told you to strike at him before he touched you, but you kept them in check. He never said a word, but his eyes said plenty. You watched him raise his hand, then felt a sharp sting and stumbled a step to the side as he backhanded the right side of your face.

“What’s going on?!” A voice, familiar and angry sounding, boomed through the small mob, stilling it for a moment with its power. As much as you wanted to, you didn’t stay to look at Alfred. You took the split second when all the men turned their heads.

You dodged your way around the first few men, shoving and jumping madly, and slammed your foot into the last man’s shin ignoring his cry of pain as you made for the forest. Ever so badly you wanted to look back at Alfred, but the cries of confusion and anger were far too close to risk it. Adrenaline pumped through your blood, pushing you faster with every step. You were practically flying now. You’d never run so fast in your life. Not even escaping the enemy’s camp had pushed you so much. But despite your speed, you knew they were close. You weren’t exactly being quiet, and you cringed with every dry twig you cracked, but they sounded like a herd of stampeding buffalo themselves. If you could get out of their sight, you could sneak away, and they wouldn’t realize they had lost your trail for a while.

You risked a glance over your shoulder and noticed they seemed somewhat distracted by something happening behind them. This was your chance! Taking advantage of your temporary situation, you turned and started going right, and instead of forward, you made an almost complete circle and risked heading in a direction close to the one you had come from. It was dangerous, if they saw you they would have you, but if they didn’t spot you, you would get away for certain.

They were yelling. Screaming what you thought was probably curses. You couldn’t help yourself. It seemed your feet were moving of their own accord as you crept silently back towards the commotion, your heart beating faster with every movement.

Before you reached the problem, you heard men trample in the direction you had previously been running, and for a few long moments you stood frozen, watching their shadows hurtle through the trees like so many crashing boulders. Within moments they were gone. You resumed your tentative walk. There were still noises coming from that area, though they were much quieter now.

Peeking around a tree, you gasped at what you saw. It was Alfred. He stood, bloodied and beaten, eyeballing a man who stood with his back to you. The man was also beaten, but not so much as Alfred. You suspected his beating had been a group effort. Almost without thinking, you picked up a large rock and crept closer, using all the hunting skills your father had taught you.

You lifted your hand, stone griped firmly, and were just about to emerge into sight and kill him, but you froze. You recognized him. He was around 25 and been in church with a young pregnant woman and a little boy who was missing an eye and wore a hat to cover his head. But you knew. You’d seen the boy walking past Belle’s house a few times. He had little hair, only around the edges of his hairline, and you recognized that the missing portion was the shape that a scalp usually was. The boy had been scalped and somehow had survived.

How could you kill this man? Your hand trembled slightly as you thought about the woman and the boy. This man was wrong for threating you, for hurting Alfred. But wasn’t he a victim of circumstance as well? Could you really hurt this man more than he had already been? He had every reason to believe people of your race were monsters, judging by his child. If you killed him, would you be proving him right? But the thing that bothered you the most was the child, not the man. The little boy never smiled, and when you smiled at him after church, he cringed and hid behind his mother like you were going to kill him. Could you really take his father away from him, after everything he’d already been through?

You sighed quietly and let the rock fall to the ground. Alfred would be alright. He could take care of himself. And- you had no doubt- somehow he would find you again. He wanted to go home too, and your homes were in the same area. You would see him again.

With that thought, you turned and ran silently once more, towards the south, towards home, begging the spirits for their guidance and protection, both for you and for the man you loved.