Fic- Before Bridget Jones' Diary
Originally written for US history homework. Turned in late, but the teacher told me that she enjoyed reading this, so here I am, posting this on my LJ. And I should be doing other homework now...
(The parchment is yellowed with age and a little water logged at corners and mud stained where grubby hands have wrinkled it. The handwriting is childish and sloppy with various cross-outs and illegible scribbles)
July 17 1620
Hot and wet. Hiding from little brother because I dropped his small Bible in the mud this morning. For my birthday today, I received this journal to record my thoughts and reflections in. I suspect that it is because Mother feels that my writing needs improving, however, I agree with Father; knowing how to write like an official would not help sow seeds, although I am certain that voicing out such thoughts would only result in copying more pages of the Scripture. My right hand is still stiff and sore from yesterday. New families are moving into the colony, according to the announcement today; they say it is to help with prevent idle land. I wonder if it means more people in the daily bible study sessions?
Father is yelling at me to come out of the shed now. Will need to find a place to hide this log.
-Nathan
(This entry is a little flecked with strands of hay and suspicious stains. There are wrinkles where hands have held it and where chickens have trodden on it. The writing is more clear and careful, almost as if printed.)
May 24 1628
Found my old journal while clearing the old hayloft. Realized that I have not written since I was a child so I will resume where my younger self had left off. The officials have established the colony as a Royal Charter, which renders me able to participate in government business. Assuming that I am able to retain my position as church member of course, Jacob was removed from the membership not to long ago for having committed adultery. It was pleasant, watching an old friend being lashed in public, but he had what was coming for him. I just wish they could have fined him and sent him off. Speaking of fines, my younger brother was fined a nice sum for washing some piss-stained trouser last Sunday. He still refuses to tell me whose clothing they belong to. I should refrain from teasing him like a child; Mother would be most displeased and send me to the minister. She has been speaking of doing so ever since she had found out that I made friends with acquaintances of Roger Williams. Many people find his ideas dangerous and corrupt, but I think they are extreme at their worst and liberating at their best.
Just realized that I was supposed to deliver those eggs to Goody Tucker several moments ago and I can hear Mother yelling my name. I will hide this journal behind the chicken coop. Maybe I will remember to take it out tonight.
-Nathan
(The parchment is weatherworn and the surface is dotted with signs of dried rainwater and mud. The handwriting is more legible but it is still a hasty scrawl getting more and more rushed towards the end.)
November 11 1636
Reflecting upon my last entry, I am glad to write that I had remembered to store my journal in my room, sadly, I had forgotten about its existence until now; so much has happened between now and then. Two years ago, we (or at least, the colonies) were engaged in a war against the Natives. I defended the colony so I managed to overhear news from some of the ministers; it seemed that the Natives were disputing the division of land with the government officials. I cannot say that I am not surprised the possessiveness of the heathens, but John told me that the Natives had been on the land long before my grandfather even set foot on this New World. What happened afterwards, I do not recall, all I remember was Mother dying due to the lack of provisions in the families; Father died when he was assaulted by a group of savages during the war. It saddens me to know that the moral values I had been taught - to love, to be generous, to be forgiving, had been ignored so blatantly by the society that had taught me those values.
Which leads me to the present time - and I will be brief, for I hear Robert asking my help. I have persuaded my brother to follow Robert Williams to form a new colony on Rhode Island. He is still sulking over the fact that we had purchased the land from a different band of Natives (but Natives, nonetheless), but I hope that this method of trade will lessen conflict - I do not wish for any more wars, for we would not be able to fight. According to Abigail, some families in the old colony are joining us after being driven out for reading the bible differently. I never realized that the same text could be read differently for different people. Abigail laughed at me when I asked her if they read upside-down.
Robert is standing at my doorway now; apparently, a goose fell into the newly dug well. Will the surprises never end?
-Nathan
(On a cloud, with slow, steady handwriting carefully traced)
Sometime around winter 1692
After being dead for…several years, I still have not figured out how time operates where I am now. I am certain I am dead because I can hear dear Mother yelling at me to stop lazing around on clouds all day.
From what I have seen all these years, I am quite relieved that my time was up before these troubling years could arrive. The colonies are now reduced (according to old minister here; I should have expected to meet him here) to being Royal Charters, so now the local governments are unable to make their own laws to rule the colonists. The other old ministers here are bemoaning the fact that the charter has decreed that the church now held no power over the governing of the people living. I allow myself a little pang of jealousy at the thought of my descendants being able to play on Sabbath. But even then I would not want to be alive there. I saw a few young girls accusing nearly everyone in the town of witchcraft and sorcery. Abigail is still fuming over the fact that one of the girls that led the accusation shares her name. I should refrain from teasing her, in case I am banished from…here. Robert assures me that the madness down there will end soon, and I believe him, after all, he led me and several other families out of trouble and I trust that our descendants can do the same.
-Nathan
(The writing fades away as the winds blows the cloud away)
(The parchment is yellowed with age and a little water logged at corners and mud stained where grubby hands have wrinkled it. The handwriting is childish and sloppy with various cross-outs and illegible scribbles)
July 17 1620
Hot and wet. Hiding from little brother because I dropped his small Bible in the mud this morning. For my birthday today, I received this journal to record my thoughts and reflections in. I suspect that it is because Mother feels that my writing needs improving, however, I agree with Father; knowing how to write like an official would not help sow seeds, although I am certain that voicing out such thoughts would only result in copying more pages of the Scripture. My right hand is still stiff and sore from yesterday. New families are moving into the colony, according to the announcement today; they say it is to help with prevent idle land. I wonder if it means more people in the daily bible study sessions?
Father is yelling at me to come out of the shed now. Will need to find a place to hide this log.
-Nathan
(This entry is a little flecked with strands of hay and suspicious stains. There are wrinkles where hands have held it and where chickens have trodden on it. The writing is more clear and careful, almost as if printed.)
May 24 1628
Found my old journal while clearing the old hayloft. Realized that I have not written since I was a child so I will resume where my younger self had left off. The officials have established the colony as a Royal Charter, which renders me able to participate in government business. Assuming that I am able to retain my position as church member of course, Jacob was removed from the membership not to long ago for having committed adultery. It was pleasant, watching an old friend being lashed in public, but he had what was coming for him. I just wish they could have fined him and sent him off. Speaking of fines, my younger brother was fined a nice sum for washing some piss-stained trouser last Sunday. He still refuses to tell me whose clothing they belong to. I should refrain from teasing him like a child; Mother would be most displeased and send me to the minister. She has been speaking of doing so ever since she had found out that I made friends with acquaintances of Roger Williams. Many people find his ideas dangerous and corrupt, but I think they are extreme at their worst and liberating at their best.
Just realized that I was supposed to deliver those eggs to Goody Tucker several moments ago and I can hear Mother yelling my name. I will hide this journal behind the chicken coop. Maybe I will remember to take it out tonight.
-Nathan
(The parchment is weatherworn and the surface is dotted with signs of dried rainwater and mud. The handwriting is more legible but it is still a hasty scrawl getting more and more rushed towards the end.)
November 11 1636
Reflecting upon my last entry, I am glad to write that I had remembered to store my journal in my room, sadly, I had forgotten about its existence until now; so much has happened between now and then. Two years ago, we (or at least, the colonies) were engaged in a war against the Natives. I defended the colony so I managed to overhear news from some of the ministers; it seemed that the Natives were disputing the division of land with the government officials. I cannot say that I am not surprised the possessiveness of the heathens, but John told me that the Natives had been on the land long before my grandfather even set foot on this New World. What happened afterwards, I do not recall, all I remember was Mother dying due to the lack of provisions in the families; Father died when he was assaulted by a group of savages during the war. It saddens me to know that the moral values I had been taught - to love, to be generous, to be forgiving, had been ignored so blatantly by the society that had taught me those values.
Which leads me to the present time - and I will be brief, for I hear Robert asking my help. I have persuaded my brother to follow Robert Williams to form a new colony on Rhode Island. He is still sulking over the fact that we had purchased the land from a different band of Natives (but Natives, nonetheless), but I hope that this method of trade will lessen conflict - I do not wish for any more wars, for we would not be able to fight. According to Abigail, some families in the old colony are joining us after being driven out for reading the bible differently. I never realized that the same text could be read differently for different people. Abigail laughed at me when I asked her if they read upside-down.
Robert is standing at my doorway now; apparently, a goose fell into the newly dug well. Will the surprises never end?
-Nathan
(On a cloud, with slow, steady handwriting carefully traced)
Sometime around winter 1692
After being dead for…several years, I still have not figured out how time operates where I am now. I am certain I am dead because I can hear dear Mother yelling at me to stop lazing around on clouds all day.
From what I have seen all these years, I am quite relieved that my time was up before these troubling years could arrive. The colonies are now reduced (according to old minister here; I should have expected to meet him here) to being Royal Charters, so now the local governments are unable to make their own laws to rule the colonists. The other old ministers here are bemoaning the fact that the charter has decreed that the church now held no power over the governing of the people living. I allow myself a little pang of jealousy at the thought of my descendants being able to play on Sabbath. But even then I would not want to be alive there. I saw a few young girls accusing nearly everyone in the town of witchcraft and sorcery. Abigail is still fuming over the fact that one of the girls that led the accusation shares her name. I should refrain from teasing her, in case I am banished from…here. Robert assures me that the madness down there will end soon, and I believe him, after all, he led me and several other families out of trouble and I trust that our descendants can do the same.
-Nathan
(The writing fades away as the winds blows the cloud away)