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Rated: 13+ · Other · Death · #1471055
About a Native American's experience during the slaughters of the US calvary.
** NOTICE THis story was written with no research, rather a snipet of an event that happened in the US. If this is offensive to anyone please realize this story is conjectured straight out of my mind.

It was in the middle of the night that I heard thunder roaring down the mountain side. I thought Rain Seeker our seer may have missed the coming of a storm but then the thundering began to get louder. It was then I realized it was the booming of horse hooves pounding powerfully into the ground.

I thought it had to be a wild herd of horses that had been set into a frenzy by some supernatural force but realized there were men on the horses when a low voice called out something in a foreign tounge. Were they raiders? I wondered as I began to climb out of my buffalo hide bed. Rising Sun was quickly by my side weapons in hand, a strong bow made out of sycamore lay in his right hand and arrows made out of flint and eagle feathers were in his left. He motioned me for silence. Quietly he told me that these people were not a group of indians from a nearby camp. My father did not recognize their alien tongue full of harsh and broken words.

He told me these people spoke with hushed tones. It was by chance that we had heard a command ordered to the party. He told me to tuck myself under the blankets and to keep a club near me until he returned. He did not wait for me to acknowledge his orders. He slipped out from the tent before I could nod my head.

A piercing scream had shattered the night. There was no more silence and anticipation for a storm to rage. There were a few cries of anger and defiance that blended with cries of determination and rage. The two parties had seen one another. There was no secrecy. I heard the strong voice of our chieftan call out into to silence the cries. Our leader's voice was heavy with sleep but rose in power when he spoke. It was gentle with a stream of anger lying under his calm voice.

"Why have these young men come here wearing adornments of battle when our people are supposed in a state of peace?" A young angry voice echoed after our chieftan, translating his words into their twisted toungue. A cold voice devoid of any feeling called back harsh words. The translator spoke too soft for me to hear their answer. The chieftan's voice wobbled for a second then regained its even tempo. "This is not what you told me at our last meeting. You guarenteed our safety you told us all would be fine if we did as told. So far we have been obedient like children and yet we face the results as if we disobeyed. How do you defend this?"

The young voice trailed after the chieftan's speech. Then a loud cracking noise erupted into the air. There was another piercing scream then silence. Some woman's voice wailed "My son is dead!". There were screams of anger then fright as more crackings noises exploded. The chieftan yelled with his loud powerful frightened voice "Follow me! I have the flag of white that will ensure our safety and end these warriors' madness!" I then heard more cracks go off.

By now my heart was thumping in my chest as fast as a rabbit runs. I forgot caution in my panic and climbed out of the buffalo skins. I crept out of my peaceful tent into the scene of a nightmare. There were bodies strewn across the ground. Bright flashes of light lite the horrbile scene. I was able to recognize some of the bodies that had been moving earlier. The bodies of friends and families that had been laughing and singing just hours before.

I heard a series of hooves pounding behind me and turned to see a figure rushing towards me. His skin shone bright in the firelights that exploded around me. His gold hair seeemed to blaze. I stood there in shock and watched as one of the warriors named Bear Claw leapt out of no where and jumped onto the man on the horse. The rider and beast slowed as Bear Claw tried to dislodge the rider. A light and crack went off and a figure landed on the ground with a thud. My heart skipped a beat as my mind began to weep for Bear Claw. A sharp victorious cry sung and the horse circled three times, I recognized the familiar gesture of victory. Bear Claw was alive! He galloped pass me to the area where the most light exploded.

I noticed the light had increased. I turned to the tepees and saw several ablaze. One of the tepees must have caught fire and the hungry fire had leapt from tepee to tepee. There was no one to stop the flames. My mind began to break again. I had to fight back my urge to crumple into a heap. If I froze again I may die.

I saw a group of people running after a familiar figure. It was our chieftan! I started to run towards the group when I noticed people were slowly dropping from the group onto the ground and they were not getting back up. Our chieftan had reached his flaming tepee and managed to drag something out. It was white. He held it up with extended arms like a white eagle spreading her glourious wings to the Gods. This had to stop the demons from killing our people. A foreign voice suddenly rang through the battle ground strong and sure, ordering others to him.

All of a sudden the scene was silent. A brief pause in the firing. Horses seemed to ride towards one area of our camp. Another order sounded, an order from our chieftan "Warriors lay down your weapons there is no need for them. The madness has been overcome. These men, our friends, have remembered our peaceful pact." Our warriors snuck over to the direction of our group, treading over the bodies of the dead. They wearily gathered around our leader waiting for their next command. But the next command was not from our chieftains lips, rather they came from that ugly hideous language of the other people. A round of cracks went off and I watched our men and chietan fall to the ground. Never to get up again.

Another series of cracks sounded to confirm my thoughts. It was then I could no longer stand. My knees buckled and I hit the ground. My stomach emptied onto the ground, and I heaved my soul out of my heart onto the cold bloodied earth. The sound of footsteps sounded in front of me. My unseeing eyes looked at the person. He was not of my tribe. He was one of the pale demons that had massacured my people. His eyes almost seemed human, almost matched mine. They seemed as though they were bewildered and lost like me, they seemed dazed. For a second I almost believed he was human.

And then I saw the crimson stains strewn over his human form and clothes. His expression had to be a demon's trick. He was mocking me and my loss. A voice called from another part of the camp. The demon near me looked at the directon the voice was calling from then back to me. He seemed to hesitate. He seemed nervous. He found his gruff voice and called back to the questioner. His answer seemed negative. He turned back to me and whispered "Run. Tonght die no." Then he left me to join with his comrade.

So the demon had decided to torture me. He decided to let me live with this led heart that barely beat in my chest rather then let me quickly join my lost brothers and sisters. Some self preservation seemed to kick in and I found myself in the woods. I do not remember the journey nor do I recall any events in the hours between that night and day.

I do not know how long I wandered in the forest full of whispers and voices. Day seemed to blur into night as I walked. My voice raised and lowered in the Song of Mourning as I walked away from my home. It grew in volume as I realized how much I had truly lost. At one point I had collasped into the embracing plants of the earth. I wept with heaving sobs until sleep claimed me. Some noise woke me up later. I was unsure of both my surroundings and the noise.

I wondered why my buffalo skins were so itchy and why someone would be stirring in the night. It was then I noticed a group of men around me. I screamed in fright as the moonlight shone off their skin. They must be the pale demons come to torture me more! "Silence!" called a voice. I shut my mouth in surprise. A rough hand lurched me to my feet and I teetered back and forth on my feet. The same rough hand steadied me.
"She must be poccessed by a forest spirit!"
"A spirit must have lured her to the forest!"
"Look at the blood on her. She must have killed a person in her tribe!"

Voices rang around me all seeming to blur into one another. A rough voice silenced them. The voice commanded them to make camp and get some food for me. The men around me dispersed, the hand on my shoulder began to pull back. My hand flew to my shoulder and trapped the anchor that kept me to this earth. I did want this dream to leave me. The hand stiffened then relaxed. It would not let go.

I turned to face the dream spirit that held me in his illusion. What I saw seeemed very real. A person with hair that blened into the night and chocolate eyes that seemed to brighten in the moon's light. Maybe this was a messenger from the Gods. Perhaps he would take me to my kin. Time passed and I was given food and water. The next day we woke early and i was taken to the dreamer's camp. I was given to a group of women who tsked at my poor state. Why did they worry so when this was all a dream?

The cleaned and braided my hair. They gave me clean smooth buckskin to wear. My mind slowly awakened and I began to interact with the dream world. I worked with the other women of the dream tribe. We wove baskets and cooked food amoungst other tasks. My handsome dream spirit constantly checked on me and I learned they called him Walker. A month passed in this dream world and I married my dream spirit.

Time is still passing an I continue to live in between my shattered world and this illusion that keeps me from the Gods. On some days I laugh with the other members of my dream tribe. I do not feel guilty about living a normal life in this illusion. Why shoul dI when this is not reality? I did ask my spirit husband when he would take me to my tribe. The look on his face made me silence my tongue.

I am very thankful that he does ask about the place I came from. Though I do hear rumors circulate aroudn the camp. Apparently the sprits enjoy gossip as much as humans. I just hope that I will soon join up with my sisters to tell them about my spirit husband and his kindness and apologize for my delayed arival in their spirit world.
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