I’m thinking of my mother and father in my dying moments. I know what I did was wrong, but guess what? At the same time it wasn’t.
“Star, I forbid you. Listen to and respect your father! You are but a girl!” Mother had said.
But the cry was, “The British are coming!” And I care not what my Loyalist family thinks. I care not that I am a girl. I am strong, and better with a musket than my father.
All of my grandparents had come to the colonies from Wales, where they were constantly harassed by the English. Why is my family on the side of the king like this?
They’ve retired to the sitting room. I grab a set of clothes belonging to my twin brother Tom. I hastily pull them on, caring not that they are slightly too big for my slight frame.
I sweep up my beautiful black hair under his tricorn. Grabbing Father’s musket, I hastily make my way to the door.
Coming to the door, I hesitate. I’ll either be killed or disowned. But I care not. I want to stand up to the Redcoats.
I sneak out the door and bolt to the town green, holding the musket.
For hours I fight the Redcoats bravely, alongside with the humble farmers who have dared to stand up to the greatest military force in the world. A Redcoat crumples as my bullet makes its mark.
But I am tiring. The next thing I feel is a British soldier’s bayonet piercing my chest.
Mother and Father, I must leave you now. But I regret nothing. As my breaths grow shorter and my crimson essence sinks into the ground, the last thing I think of is the old Welsh songs that you would sing when I was but a babe…
Pet's name: Brightheart
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Pet's name: Saoirse
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