Sophia Louise Gray, April 1775-December 1777

[stinkyweasel]

I want to start by saying I'm a history nerd,so I thought I would combine my favorite time in American History with the BTVS universe.Some people in my story were real,some are made up.My story won't be jumping straight into Watchers and vampires at first,so bear with me. This is also my first serious attempt at writing-any suggestions are more than welcome.




Village of St.Anne,three miles outside
of Boston,April 1775

Sophia Louise Gray woke to the soud of her family's rooster crowing.She groaned and slowly sat up,rubbing her throbbing temples.She stood up,her knees popping,her back cracking in protest."Why can't vampires keep daylight hours?" she wondered out loud. She walked over to her oak dresser on the other side of her bedroom.She slipped out of her night gown and stared at her naked body in the large oval mirror on top of her dresser.Purple and black brusies covered her body.She turned around and looking over her shoulder,she saw the large bruise on her lower back."Damn" she muttered.She turned around and saw more brusies,one on her torso,one on her left shoulder,and one on her right ribcage.She couldn't be sure,but she thought one of her ribs might be cracked.She slowly changed into her work clothes and headed to the kitchen to help her mother start the day.
~~~
Once Sophia saw her younger brother,Henery off to school and finshed the morning work,she went to her bedroom.She pushed her bed against the wall and dropped to her knees.She pried the floorboards loose and reached inside.She pulled out a small,leather bound journal.Setting it to the side she pulled out a small satchel.Inside were her slaying supplies.A few wooden stakes,several small glass bottles of holy water,a rosary,and a crusafix-which if turned upside down and pulled apart concealed a double edged dagger.She smiled to herself,thinking what her mother would say if she found all of these Catholic items.She would probably disown Sophia on the spot.Reaching in once more she pulled out what she was looking for,a raiper encased in a brown leather sheath which was attached to a belt.Four feet long and Spanish made,it was her favorite weapon.She replaced the rest of her gear and the floorboards.Strapping on her sword,she headed for the barn.Her mother was in Boston for the day,giving her plenty of time to train.


More to come soon,again,any suggestions welcome.

 

[stinkyweasel]

Thrust,slash,sidestep.Don't forget to breath.After what seemed like an eternity but was only a couple of hours,Sophia finally stopped and sheathed her raiper.She picked up the training dummy made out of hay and burlap and returned it to the corner where it was hidden and covered it with a couple of bales of hay.She did most of the work in the barn,so there was little chance of her mother or brother finding it.She went to the horse trough and splashed water on her face.Sitting down,she breathed in the cool Spring air,and wondered for the thousandth time it seemed,why her?What was so special about her that made her the "Chosen One"?

~~~
It was hard enough to get by,making sure her mother and brother were taken care of,the endless work that was required to keep their small farm running.Trying to stay out of the Redcoats way.That was the worst.The anger and pure hatred she felt for the Crown.Sometimes,she thought that she could actually feel her hate coursing through her veins like a poison.One of the things that she hated the most was the arrogance and contempt they had for the Colonists.Being forced to house British troops was the worst.Watching them tear through her family's home and farm,taking whatever they wanted.On those nights Sophia and her family would sleep in the barn.

~~~
The source of her hatred stemmed from what the British took from her and her family-her father.Her father was Samuel Gray,one to the three men killed in the Boston Maassacre.She had only been ten years old at the time,Henery had been three.

~~~
She remembered that night.Her father was late coming home from work.He was a rope maker in Boston.Recentley,the Crown had "hired"(which was a polite way of saying work for free)her father to make some rope for some of their ships that were docked in Boston Harbor.The extra work kept him in his shop late,but never this late.He had already missed dinner.Sophia and Henery were already in bed,their father also having missed their bedtime story.He never missed their bedtime story.After Henry had drifted off to sleep,Sophia lay awake.She knew something was wrong.She didn't know how or why,she just knew.Around 10:00 P.M. there was a knock on the door.Being careful not to wake Henry,she slowly climbed out of bed and quietly crept downstairs.Mr. and Mrs. Henried were talking to her mother.The Henried's were their neighbors,having their own farm a mile from her family's.She couldn't make out what was said,so she watched,a rotten,sick feeling in her stomach.She saw Mrs. Henreid put her hands on her mother's shoulders.Both Mr. and Mrs. Henreid had very sad looks on their faces.Sophia had never seen them look this way before.They were always smiling and happy.The rotten feeling in her stomach grew.The look on her mother's face turned from worried to a look of horror.She then dropped to her knees and begain sobbing uncontrolably.Mrs.Henreid fell to her knees with her,wrapping her arms around her,rocking her back and forth.Sophia wrapped her arms around her knees and started crying.It was a few minutes before anyone noticed her.Mr.Henreid came to her,picked her up and held her.She couldn't remember how long she sat there on the stairs,wrapped in Mr.Henreid's arms,her endless stream of hot tears spilling onto his chest.At some point she finally fell asleep,too tired to cry anymore.She woke up in her bed the next morning.She lay there for awhile,letting her grief wash over her.The next few days were a steady stream of visitors coming in and out.Then the funeral.That had to have been the worst day of her life.If only she had known what was to come.




Thanks for reading,more to come as soon as I figure out where to take my story.

 

[Vorchan]

I've always liked history and historical fiction (as long as it's plausible, not like 'divinci code' and such nonsense), and I've now got a delighted taste for this stuff.
Please do continue.