Journal Entry #22

            This is John. Pierre will be no longer be writing in this journal... yesterday, when I was working at the farm, Nertha and Pierre were at home. Nertha tells me that suddenly three Britain soldiers popped in with guns, and they grabbed Pierre by his hair and dragged him away. Nertha cried and tried to protect him, but the soldiers said that he was a person convicted to high treason, and that unless she wants her land taken away, she'd better pretend that she doesn't know Pierre. She wiped herself up and took in all the tears, but the moment I came home, she began to cry, and she told me the story between sobs. When I look at the couch that Pierre was last sitting on, I found this book that I am writing in at the moment. Reading his past journals made me feel like I knew more about him (too late for that I guess). I would've never guessed that he was had helped out the Americans in the War of 1812. I suppose I should thank him for acting as if he didn't know who anybody was, or else their house may have been burnt down. I'll take extra good care of this diary because it is the only memory of my good friend Pierre. I heard that he was getting hung tomorrow...

-Pierre

Journal Entry #21

               After we lost the war, Britain and the United States signed a "The treaty of Ghent," in Belgium December 24, 1814. The boundaries of Britain and the United States went back to how it was before the war, and they also promised that they will not take away the First Nations land, or use the First Nations as allies in war again. Since the United States no longer need me to fight wars for them, they let me out. I'm back in Canada, and I've met an old friend of mine. His names John, and he went to Sierra Leone to Live a better life. When I first saw him inside a bar, I thought that I was seeing things. John had grown so much over the years. He was no longer that skinny boy that didn't know what to do, to a powerful man with authority. He told me that life in Sierra Leone was not as promising as they had told him when he was about to join the others and move to Sierra Leone. Right now, I am in his house in front of the fire. I like staying at his house since he is very kind towards me, and he tells me stories about how life was in Sierra Leone. Since John is a man who gets a lot of respect in this village, being his friend makes my life a whole lot easier. John's wife is also very nice, and I can see why John chose her as his partner. Though I think Mary was a better cooker, John's wife Nertha doesn't seem like a better person at all. Now that I have recovered and I am much stronger than before, I will help out with the farm beginning tomorrow. I already feel tired at the thought but I owe John so much that it's the least I can do.

-Pierre

Journal Entry #20

            I'm not sure how I should write this down. Unfortunately, we lost the war, and I feel bitter that I lost, but the good part is that I'm alive. The other good part is that I myself was the one that had shot Brock down. He was my only hope of finding my mother, but I don't regret it. That man deserved it. This war is now remembered as the "Battle of Queenston Heights." I don't really like the name. I would prefer the name, "The battle in which Pierre shot Brock," but maybe it's not as catchy as the first one. What happened in the war is that the American force that I am in attacked the British North American force at around 4 in the morning (Yes I had to get up very early). Anyone with a sane mind would have ran away from the force that the Americans sent, but Brock decided to counter with the small force that he had. Eventually I shot him down, and his troops retreated and waited for reinforcements to come. When the reinforcements came, we lost (I don't want to explain it in detail). 958 Americans were taken prisoner. And I know I didn't mention this from the beginning (I don't want to scratch out the beginning since ink is scarce here), but right now I am in ANOTHER cell. Why? Because I was one of the 958 prisoners that was taken. Next time I fight a war, I'm going to make sure that I stay a bit behind so that something like this doesn't happen. The good part is that George is also here with me (Not necessarily "good" to be trapped in a prison cell, but the more the merrier). George seems a bit shaken by the war though. The only family member that he had was his brother named Fred, but according to George, they were fighting side by side when Fred got shot. This gets me worried about Addie and Damien. Addie's my older sister, and Damien is my younger brother. Everyone used to think that Damien was bad news because he was a natural troublemaker, while me and Addie were the ones that everyone thought was perfect. Damien's name also means to kill (though I think that so much more cooler than my name, because my name means rock or stone). My sister had the coolest name meaning which was, "of the noble kind." This makes me wonder what happened to both of them...

-Pierre

Journal Entry #19

               My "father" has sold me to the Americans. Right now, I am dressed in a American military suit, and is about to be put into war. I don't know where my mother is, but my father said that he won't kill her, which is a slight relief. In this military, it's clear that the high ups here doesn't care what happens to us. The food here tastes bad, the people here all hate each other, and if you try to escape, the guards won't think twice about putting a bullet through your head. I'm not sure why they expect us to fight when they treat us so badly. The one thing I regret is that again I wasn't able to say goodbye before parting with my mother. I have one friend here named George. He's very nice to me, and the situation that he's in is far from good. I feel kind of bad for him because I've only just recently come here, but he's been around since he was very young. He doesn't know who his parents are, nor does he know whether they are alive or not. It seems like the Americans are stirring up a war with British North America. And it seems like I'm going to be in yet another war. I'd gladly fight the British North America, and my father's troops. I'd shoot down Brock myself if I had the chance. I don't really think the war is fair though. The Americans have so many more troops than British North America, and they are also busy fighting a war with Napoleon at the same. But for this war alone, I want win more than ever. 


My Reasons
-Brock is fighting on the other side
-I lost at my previous war so I want to win this one
-I get shot if I don't fight


I can't sleep these days because the thought of having another war brings me back memories of the one before...


-Pierre

Journal Entry #18

          Right now I am in a dark prison cell. You see, just about a day ago, I arrived at where Tecumseh was. I left my mother at a nearby house (by the way, she forgives me now, though I don't think she really likes the idea of her son being a murderer), and I decided to visit Tecumseh. When I arrived at where Tecumseh was, I noticed that there were other people there as also. As I went closer, I noticed that the people that were here were Brock's men! I knew that this meant Brock was here. Willing to see Brock, I sneaked inside the cottage. When I went inside, I saw two man shaking hands. I was supposed that the dark skinned man was Tecumseh, and the other man that looked like me was Brock, my father. That night, I sneaked inside of Brock's tent with a gun, hoping that I'll catch him when he comes inside to sleep. But... it was a busy day, and therefore I felt asleep before Brock arrived. Brock knew what I was up to, and he decided to capture me when I was asleep. He threw me in the cell that I am currently in, and he told me that I was to stay here until his men determined the location of my mother. Me and my mother are to be separated, and he is going to sell me to some rich dude. Right now, I'm scared. Is this man that I am facing at the moment truly my father???

-Pierre

Journal Entry #17

                At the moment, I'm staying at an inn called First Canada Inns. It's services aren't that bad, and nothing really special has happened except for the fact that... MY MOTHER WOKE UP. When she did, I was so surprised yet happy at the same time. But... she didn't really seem so happy. She seemed sad and disappointed. Not being able to withstand her disappointment in me, I left the room that I was staying in, and I am now in the lobby. I've met a man named Richard Pierpoint, and he's brilliant. First of all, he's a utterly BRILLIANT man, and second, he's the founder of the Black military company called Coloured Corps. I really admire this man. He has a good sense of humor, and he's the type of person that would earn the respect of everyone. He told me that he was born in 1746 in Bondu, Africa. When he was just a teenager, he was taken to slavery. He fought in the Butler's Rangers during the American Revolution. Hearing all this made my respect for him even greater, since such a thing has never happened to me before. Richard says that he's on a journey to... um... (I forgot), and that him and his men are just staying at this Inn for the night. I told him the situation that I was in, and he told me that I should go apologize to my mother. Since Richard is a very wise man, I won't refuse, but I'm not sure if I can face my mother...

-Pierre

Journal Entry #16

             My mother has not yet woken up, though the doctor said that she was in a big state of shock, and that she should wake up in a day or so. I am seriously worried right now. What if mother never wakes up??? Well, the good news is that we are nearing the area where Tecumseh's supposed live. As we get closer and closer to our destination, I hear more and more about Tecumseh. Apparently he was born in 1768, as a member of the Shawnee nation. He has a brother named Tenskwatawa (yes, it is a strange name), and they are both strongly against the idea of selling the first nations land to the Americans. From what I hear, Brock is also coming to where Tecumseh lives in order to meet him. I must get there as soon as possible, and I'm assuming that I'll arrive there at around the late beginning of August. I'm also hearing a lot of things about Brock. He was said to have been born in 1769, in England. He hose military as his career, and was sent to Canada in 1802. His assignment was to improve the colony's ability to defend itself against mostly the United States. In 1811 he became the head of the British forces in Canada. I don't know much more, but rumors say that he has a tattoo on his left shoulder (I wonder what it is?). I'm assuming that I will get to my destination in two or three days, and I must go there as fast as fast as possible, so I think I'll have to find somewhere to stay for the night before it gets to dark...

-Pierre