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Rated: 13+ · Campfire Creative · Draft · Detective · #2007101
I haven't really decided what this story is going to be about
[Introduction]
Chapter 1

          April 19th, 1775

Dear Katrina,

These past few months have been most difficult for me. . . I fear that war will be upon us more quickly than I had anticipated. I'm not sure how much longer I can go on without seeing your beautiful face, I am counting the days until we can once again be together. With this note, please forgive me darling, my love, for I shall not be returning home as expected, the trouble in Boston has worsened and it will be more difficult to leave the city. I fear that, soon, the Regulars will even seize control of the Harbor. I cannot begin to imagine what is going to happen next, so much has changed since we arrived in New England. I want you to know that no matter what happens, you will always be my one and only love. I will treasure all the moments we have spent together, and hold them close to my heart forever.

With all my love,

Ichabod Crane



          I stumbled along Boston's cobblestone streets as the darkness engulfed the last few rays of sunlight. The lamplighters had already begun their nightly rounds, I quickened my pace, soon the Redcoats would be begin their nightly rounds as well. Their was much tension between the colonists and the redcoats lately, it has been five years since the Boston Massacre, but the wound is still fresh. I rounded a corner, there were few British officers, " Crane, old chap, How are you? No trouble with the Yankees I hope!," one asked.
         "I'm well, George, no trouble with Yankees so far, mostly keep my distance though, don't want to stir up any trouble," I answered politely. George nodded with approval, I continued walking. After I passed them, I was filled with disgust and rage, in the short time I had lived in the colonies I had grown to love its people as well as the Yankee cause, but I ,being an Officer under the crown, have to keep my thoughts and opinions to myself in order to keep my head.


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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/campfires.php/item_id/2007101-Screams-of-the-Night