The bloody scene unfolded before my eyes. I didn’t notice that my face was stiffened with fear. The flames were flickering like dancing devils, seemingly pleased about this situation. I firmly closed my eyes, squeezing both of them tightly shut. This must be the curse from the blimmin’ devil. Or was it a punishment for me from hiding the book? As thoughts raced through my head, guilt spread through my whole body, my sins piercing my heart. It was too late now. I should have stopped the redskins from burning all our worldly belongings. I tried to remain as calm as I could, just in case my girl notices what I have done. But my heart didn’t follow my instincts. It was thumping against my chest, as if it was going to explode in a bitter concoction …show more content…
Everybody heard the bloody gunshots. I am sure that one day the God will punish all the unforgivable sins. Everything was happening too quickly. Too quick as if it was a dream, not reality. This must be the devil's curse. The poor white man was chopped up and thrown to the pigs. Why didn't the white man teach the children something useful? Or at least not read the blimmin’ book that ruined my girl’s beliefs? I wouldn’t have hidden the book if my girl possessed the right ideal. Pop eye could only be the descendant of a shining cuckoo. He never received wisdom from his ancestors. He shouldn’t have been teaching those young kids if he doubts the almighty power of God and the devil. I blame the book. It was blimmin’ good for nothing. Since it came into my Matilda’s life, there has been nothing but trouble. I still remember the time when I went to the school to teach proper things - none of the kids, not even my darling Matilda, were interested in the most sacred of things. How can they believe in blimmin’ nonsense, yet ignore the divine gospel of the …show more content…
Who saw?” The redskins came back and roared. There was a long silence. My fellows stood with their mouths shut, for fear that this might happen to them; just a few minutes ago, Daniel, the small poor boy, and his grandmother were taken to the jungle by the redskins because that small fellow had stood up for Mr. Watts. They were all afraid their children would also reveal the truth to the redskins. The truth couldn’t be told easily. The mere presence of the redskins made us shake our heads and cluck our tongues in dismay. I couldn’t help. But look at those blimmin’ people, looking down at their bare feet, not knowing what they had done wrong. I had to do something. At least say something. “Sir, I saw your men chop up the white man. He was a good man. I am here as God’s witness.” I stepped up towards the redskins. I had to do something before my Matilda found herself in danger. I should be the one to face the threat, never my girl. She is too young. I must keep her safe. It was to be my last duty before I crossed the great divide. Then, one of the redskins struck my face with his calloused hand. My palm was burning, but I kept calm nonetheless. I did not know where this courage came from. Could it be God bestowing on me the Holy Spirit? I shouted once again, “I will be God’s