Vignette
I awoke suddenly to the sound of horses and men yelling. I couldn't exactly tell what it was, so I dashed to the window to see what was going on. “The British are coming! The British are coming!” yelled a man riding on a speedy horse. I threw on some clothes and sped out of my small house. I saw others do the same.
“What’s going on?”
“Who was he?”
“The British?!” curious voices asked each other. I was going to help: I was determined.
The next day came. I buttoned my coat, pulled on my shoes, and tossed on a hat. On the way out of my home, I grabbed my musket. It was slightly before dawn. 70 of us so called “minutemen” gathered: Muskets in hand. We were hiding on a hilltop. We started hearing drums and saw red figures approaching. Redcoats. Us minutemen watched as the dirty Brits approached our home town of Lexington. We waited for them to all get closer - we aimed down our sights. “Okay men. Fire on the count of three. Ready? One! Two! Three!” yelled our commander. 70 muskets went off at once. Startled, the British shot back. I was disturbed to see 3 bodies beside me drop dead in a bloody mess. We reloaded and retaliated; We missed - yet again. The British fired once more. I felt excruciating pain as a bullet buried itself into my chest. Blood stained my coat. I passed out.
I was woken up by extreme pain in my wound area. I looked around: a medical tent. I looked to my chest. It was wrapped in gauze. “Ah you’re awake!” said a man in my room. “I’m Sam Prescott. The battle has ended. 8 dead, many wounded. But listen, we are recruiting troops to help our defenses at Breed’s Hill. We need you. After you’re fully healed of course. What do you say boy?”
“I’ll accept your offer. On one condition.” I replied.
“Anything. You name it.”
“I want to become a real Patriot. Not just a minuteman.” I asked.
“I guess I could arrange that.” he smiled and walked out. I closed my eyes and drifted back to a deep sleep.
“Don’t fire until you see the whites of their eyes!” commanded Washington. We saw the snotty British troops approaching. We hid behind cover as hundreds of bullets hit the hill we were on. “Now!” General Washington shouted. We all stood up and fired in unison. It turned out that we eliminated the front row of British forces. Britain fired: American blood staining the dirt. I ducked. Dust kicked up into my face.
