I lay dormant on my bed as I thought of what I had heard at the coffee shop. The word had gotten around in a flash. Just like that, the word spread all over the colonies in homes, in families, in coffee shops, in farms, in every ship and fishing boat. Everyone knew about one thing: they would be taxed. It was just that. They would be taxed. It was all anyone needed to know. They would be taxed. Even though I was only fifteen, I knew that I, my family, along with everyone else in the small town of the Saybrook Colony would be affected. Not just in my town, but every single person in the colonies would be wishing they were somewhere else, somewhere away from such a tax. A quite terrible tax indeed. The Stamp Act. The Stamp Act. The Stamp Act. I just could not get it out of my head. …show more content…
“Hey, William, why don’t you make your way over to the dinner table, I want to talk to you about something.” I could hear a bitter tone in his voice. “Sure,” I replied, knowing what he was going to tell me. I knew all about the tax already, but hadn’t told him, not wanting to be the one to inform him on the bad news. But now I was sure he knew. What else would he be wanting to talk to me about? My father left my room, and headed to the dinner table. I sat there on my bed for a couple minutes thinking about how this tax would not only affect our family, but all the colonies. When I was ready I made my way over to the dinner table to join my family. As I entered the room I heard low murmuring amongst my father, and my mother, Elizabeth. I took a step back, just out of their sight behind the door. My ears strained to hear what they were discussing. I listened to my mother’s voice: “So, you’re saying that we will be taxed on all the printed paper we use!” I heard my father