The British Occupation of New York
My heart beat wildly in my chest as my feet brought me closer and closer to the house. There should be something on the clothes line, my mind thought, over and over. There should be something. But there's nothing. Why isn't there anything? I ignored the thought and continued towards the house.
As I rounded the side of the house, I was sure that I'd made a big mistake. Five British soldiers, dressed in red uniforms, were sitting around the door and laughing with each other. I froze, not knowing what to do.
"Oi! Who're you?" demanded one of the soldiers, suddenly catching sight of me.
All of the soldiers jumped to their feet and pointed their muskets at me. I didn't know what to do. Run, Abigail, the voice spoke in my brain. Run! But I couldn't, because I knew that I'd be shot before I could take another step.
"Abigail?" One of the soldiers stepped forward, and I felt like I should've known who it was.
I couldn't speak. I was terrified.
"Abigail!" The boy rushed forward happily. He whispered, "Hey, it's me, Will. Don't you remember? Your second cousin?"
I sighed in relief. "Will!" I couldn't believe I hadn't recognized him.
"Do you have the message?" he whispered.
I nodded. "I've got to deliver it to the woman who lives here." I paused. "Why are you all dressed up as the British?"
"It's because the woman who lives here isn't here," Will explained in a whisper. "We came by to make sure that she was still safe, and so the message that you were supposed to deliver didn't get taken. But she was gone."
"Then I must give the message to you," I realized. "Here." I thrust it into his hand.
He smiled. "Thank you, Abigail."
That's about when the sack came down over my head.