Jamestown Letter

                                                                                                                         Aug 2, 1607 Dear journal,

We have recently arrived in the colony which has been named
Jamestown. Although this is a amazing accomplishment, since we do consider ourselves the first permanent settlers in the New World, the disposition of the colony has only gone from bad to worse.

The noblemen refuse to work, although we are barely able producing enough food to keep one another from starving. Because of this, there was talk of perhaps returning to Britain. When the burgesses heard word of this however, they were infuriated.
This is why the burgesses decided to instill a new rule by John Smith : "He who does not work does not eat". This is also why many of the people now awaken at day break and work until nightfall. Even the noblemen. Providing of course they would like to eat.

The noblemen are outraged by this new rule, but I suppose it is only right since we, the people of the colony, did elect the house of burgesses ourselves. So despite the protests of the noblemen the burgesses insist that it is imperative that we start living our day to day lives by this stanza.

You might wonder, dear journal, what it is I do during these days. While most of the other people are out planting the latest cash crop-- tobacco-- and others stand watch of the rumored guile nearby natives, I was assigned the task of the up raising of the younger generation.

Even though many of the children are very young, it's almost as if they can sense the unrest in the colony as we prepare for our first winter. Almost as if that they know that the growth of the colony is not as spontaneous as we hoped it to be. I hope only for the best, we can only hope for the and wait to see if our colony is meant to perspire or not.

The Night Before

Today's writing challenge is to create an account of the murder of the point of view of the murder victim, the subject, the police, or the witness based on the details from the "The Tell Tale Heart" by Edgar Allan Poe.

P.S --- I don't really know wether this is going to be good or not, so keeping that in mind, here we gooo


The Night Before 


It didn't seem very serious. Just a paranoid neighbor having read a frightening novel before retiring to bed. Scared of the contorted shadows, chirping crickets, imagining shreiks, or specifically a single gruesome shreik from a nearby house. Nothing to corroborate the statement. But claiming that he surmised foul play, for the man had much fortune any greedy soul would unhesitatingly take.
We did try to convince the frightened citizen to return to bed, but to no avail. After much arguing the chief succumbed and deputed us three to investigate the claim.  We arrived grimacing and fairly quick at the house for not many people take strolls at this hour. It was about midnight when we were notified and left the station.
When we arrived the care taker seemed calm enough, innocent even. This serenity I now know was stimulated. The caretaker bade us welcome into the house informing us that the proprietor was absent from the country at the moment. The caretaker led my fellow officers and I further inside the building allowing us to take a cursory inventory of the abode. The home looked not out of the ordinary, the caretaker pleasant, and I derived there seemed to be no wrong. As we reached the end of our endeavor and walked into what seemed to be the master bedroom, my suspicions had been diminished to nothing. The caretaker assembled a few chairs allowing us to sit and brought in refreshments saying it seemed we were dehydrated from our search. We four sat and chatted, while sipping our drinks, about nothing in particular.
And suddenly it happened. The caretaker abruptly arose from his seat as if electrified. "Villans!" the caretaker shrieked as the other officers and I quickly stood and readied our weapons "Dissemble no more! I admit the deed! Tear up the planks! Here, here! It is the beating of his hideous heart!"
The other deputies stood by the crumbled heap of what formerly was the caretaker, who now rocked vigorously on the floor. While I tore and clawed against the floorboards in an abrasive manner, my emotions detached for I knew what I would stumble upon was likely to be unpleasant. Although I knew this, I knew it like the back of my hand having had experiences like this before, I could not help but gasp seeing the face of the old man. While most of his body still clad by the floorboards I could see his face. His expression seemingly unsurprised as if expecting death was upon him and perhaps even welcoming it. There he lay, mesmerizing, frightening, ghastly and horrifying all at once, but the one thing I will not be able to forget despite my hardest efforts to, the one thing that still haunts my dreams to this day, was his one open, lifeless, vulture-like eye.