Diary of a Fox

Entry 5

May 27

I hate Harold.
We had another close encounter. If it wasn't for their "fake" accents, I'd be in jail right now. Or dead. Either way. Not on the road.
We were at an old restaurant, went the troops showed up. I ran to the closet. But, I could hear them. I could see the through small slits.
"More British boys just messing with another girl." A soldier called. I looked at Harold, who was nodding. I seriously wanted to kill him.
"Oh, yeah. She's a beauty." He looked at the door, meaning to look at me. I sent hate glares his way, hoping he'd feel them. He must have, because he grinned even larger, winking my way.
"Can we see her?" The second British soldier asked. I stopped breathing at Harold's next words.
"Yeah, Scarlet, come out. You've got visitors." I stood there frozen. The others looked at him, also angry and confused. "Scarlet, come on." He motioned for me to come. I felt my hand slowly opening the door. The door opened, and I walked out. Not smiling. But not frowning. I glared at Harold, but looked at the others, scared and confused. All I could think of was that I trusted them.
"You weren't kidding. Under the dust and pale skin, she's got potential. Too bad she's owned by you, or I'd snatch her away right now. Get's lonely at the prisoner camps." I made a sound that sounded like a mix between fear and shock at the same time. Prisoner camps?
"Yeah, well, she's not for sale." Zach said. "I'm sorry, sir, but we've got to go."
"So soon? I was just getting to know this girl you call, Scarlet." The first soldier said, running his hand through my hair. Chills ran down my spine.
"Well, you've gotten to see her. That's enough." He laughed.
"I guess so. Well, you have fun. Don't get her knocked up. This place has no hospitals for American slaves." I tried not to panic. I glared at the still smiling Harold as the soldiers left. When they were out of hearing range, we all turned to Harold.
"What were you doing?! She could have been forced to go with them!" Edward yelled. I was shaking with anger. He shrugged.
"They could have taken me away, Harold!" I yelled. He looked at me, looking angrier than I was.
"I was protecting you! If I didn't make it look like I was in charge of you, they would have killed all of us on the spot! Do you want that?!" I just stood there, frozen. "Do you want that?!" I didn't answer. I couldn't answer. I was shaking to hard. A lump formed in my throat, and I tried so hard to keep it back. I finally realized that I was sobbing, when Harold walked over to me and hugged me. "I'm sorry, Scar." I nodded, wiping the teas on the back of my hand. I just looked at the ground. He sighed, but continued to stay there with me.
So, I guess I don't hate him as much as I thought, writing this now. But, he's still not on the top of my most loved list.
Edward is yelling at me to turn this "stupid-worthless-light-off-and-get-to-bed-because-we've-got-to-a-long-day-tomorrow" speal. I guess if he was famous, it was for his tirades. How long, and boring, and un-needed they were.
Uh, oh. He's walking over here. I better turn it

Notes

(Yes, its supposed to look uncompleted)