White Mist

Erica is a girl who lived on Roanoke island-an island that mysteriously disappeared. Here is my version of how 116 people who lived on Roanoke in 1585, disappeared.


2. Two

“You need supplies and as leader I have been convinced to go. I will be back soon.” John White’s words echoed boldly to the crowd’s ears.  A sob joined the echoing of his voice.  I glanced over at Aunt Genevieve, she was crying so I knew it had been her. I sighed, I was in for torture; she would be rambling about how she missed him and how I was so unladylike. John White was our Governor.  Hugh Taylor would take charge while he was gone. There was no reason to stay and listen to Aunt Genevieve's sobs, so  I walked toward our cabin.

“Hey! Erica come here.” A voice called.

“Keep to yourself.” I said not turning around. I knew it was John White’s daughter,  Osti (short for ostentatious), the most spoiled girl ever known to Ambrose and I. Her real name was Veronica but Ambrose and I didn’t care.

“I wouldn’t be so mean. I’m staying with you till my Daddy, John White, the person in charge of everything, even you comes back.” I couldn't believe her word so I stared. Then with a little hint from Osti I stomped off toward the cabin to give her a tour.

Our cabin, Aunt Genevieve Ambrose’s family, and mine, was shaggy and had some small holes in the roof, but it was home-for now.  As we stepped inside, the door creaked open on it’s rusty hinges, brushing the floor. Quickly I hung up my coat revealing the dress behind it;the dress I always try to hide. Osti snickered. Ignoring her I shook my head feeling as if it were trapped in the white bonnet that held it. I was ready for a long night and after I showed Osti her temporary room, I walked to my torn up bed. Finally, with relief I pulled off my bonnet, changed into my night gown, crawled into my bed and closed my eyes. With that, I was quickly asleep.


    Chatter filled the air the next morning. I groaned, just 20 more minutes, I thought. Then, remembering how yesterday Aunt Genevieve had poured ice water on me, I jumped up and pulled on some clothes. Finally done, I ran towards the crowd forming in camp.

“Yes, last night.” Someone insisted. “It has to be lucky...and magical.”

“Naw, you’re gettin’ old, John.” Another proclaimed.

“What is going on?” I asked, I thought no one had heard me but then I heard a response.

“Well, if you must know. While you were off snoring we had a meeting about...never mind.” Osti popped out.

“Tell me or I’ll-I’ll...” I tried to say a threat but I was interrupted.

“You will do what?” I didn’t have to turn. I knew that voice.

“Um, what is happening Aunt Genevieve?” I asked trying to change the subject.


“Someone claims that they saw some...nonsense, they are probably trying to cause some trouble just because John White left. You just see how much we need him?!” Her eyes filled with tears and I turned away she tried to pull herself together but the fear for John White stood out in her eyes. I left Aunt Genevieve crying and went to find my best friend Ambrose. Finally, spotting her dark brown hair, a match to mine, I rushed over.

“Ambrose, what is happening?” I blurted out. Ambrose looked at me with her green eyes.  She knew I didn’t like being ladylike but she thought I should at least try.

“John Borden saw a white doe!!!!!” She told me excitedly when she was over the silent message. I gaped. No way, I thought.  Eagerly, I looked at her;she knew me. “Alright, I’ll tell you more. Hugh Taylor, you know, the big guy, black , leader while John White is gone? Well, he wants to lead a patrol to hunt down the doe.” Again, I gaped.

“No!” My face showed dismay but a bit of fascination. “When will they go?”

“Tonight if everyone agrees.” Ambrose said with the same expression as me.

“What do you want to happen?” I asked not sure what I would answer to my own question.

“I want the doe to be left at peace,” Ambrose answered, her face full of sympathy. “But I also want to see it. What do  you want?” Before I could answer a cry carried to us-a cry of joy. The crowd in camp had made a decision.  A voice called out the results; “We will capture the doe...alive.” A cheer went up, but I didn’t join and neither did Ambrose. Even though we had eagerness to see the doe, we knew it just couldn't be captured and kept.

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...