Tuesday, January 11, 2011

My 6th Writing Contest:

The topic for the 55th Short Story Challenge is: Family History.



ᏅᎾ ᏓᎤᎳ ᏨᏱ  (Nunna daul Isunyi—“the Trail Where They Cried”)
~~
The journey to the West had already been long and treacherous. More people died each day. There were those of the White nation that wore white and black that walked with us as if it were a badge of honor. I despised them. They could go to their homes of wood and stone when we could no longer worship Yowa, the Great Spirit. 
~
I was witness to many families and homes of my clan destroyed by the law givers of the white man. I did not understand how my clan of the Cherokee Nation was not recognized as a sovereign and independent nation. For as long as I could remember we lived in harmony with the white men. My father traded with them, and had many that would come and share our food. 
~
When the soldiers came herding us like cattle I knew the great Nation I had known was no longer. I just did not expect to be forced to leave our homes. Least of all lead by the very same men that we befriended. It was they that released our cattle to the fields then would beat the young men for trying to contain our livelihood. Some were beaten to their death. The medicine man blamed the Nun'Yunu'Wi for changing our friends to our enemies.
~
I was too stubborn to cry but I also had hope. Hope that forged from the tears that were cried we would be a stronger Nation. We had to be stronger. Too many had already suffered for us not to be. I hated that the innocence of the children were lost. I had to be strong for them and because I would also be part of that new Nation in the West. 
~
I did my best to keep my head high and proud because I was the future. Yet I worried that I would die too. The winter was cold and bitter and I was one of the few that had moccasins. Blankets were given to the children and Elders from a hospital, but we soon learned they were infected blankets. We were not allowed to go into any towns or villages along the way because of the epidemic they had given us.
~
Most nights I would gather the children close to the fire telling them our ancestor’s stories so they would be strong. Their favorite story was that of the Cherokee Rose. A plant with seven leaves for the seven clans of the Cherokee. It was a delicate white rose with five petals, in the center of the blossom would be a pile of gold to remind our people of the white man’s greed for gold they found on our homeland. The plant would be sturdy and strong with stickers on all the stems defying anything which tries to destroy it.
~
Several soldiers ensured the relocation of my people. There were some that would give extra provisions to those women that would warm them at night. I would not favor any man wearing the fancy clothes of blue and gold. Even though they tried. I ignored them and they ignored me usually. Except for the new ones to the regiment. 

“Are you Laura?” A young soldier asked slowing his horse next to me. “I was told you see things.”

I glared ahead and quickened my pace. The man jingled getting off his horse. I kept my pace brisk but he still followed. I despised the new ones. 

“I had a dream,” He said walking next to me. “It is about these two brothers. They are identical except one in gray and one in black. They are battling over a scrap of bread on the table. While fighting the bread is lost and they destroy their home by fire. Can you tell me what that means, Laura?” 

He gave me a smile, but I gave him a glare as I stopped. “I am Uyetsasgvi Ama. Your people’s words say it Laughing Waters, not Laura.” I hated how the white man’s language felt strange in my mouth when I spoke. 

“I see.” he said with a timid smile. “I think Laughing Waters is pretty.” 

“It is honor not pretty.” I said flatly. “Your dream simple.” I flick the gold rope on his shoulder. “The brothers you speak are your brothers. It is a war not a battle. The reason forgotten until fire comes.” I let out a breath. “Your sorrow will be greater than ours.” I gave him one more look before I returned to the journey with my people. I felt a renewed strength as I walked. Strangely I pitied the man but I did not look back. Everything was going to be different for him soon too.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

No comments:

Post a Comment