July 29th 1776

It was very hot outside when they came.

We expected one. That's why when the first one walked in, I was okay. I stood with a sweet childish smile plastered on my face.

When the second walked in, I was understanding. With the war and what not, the British were understandably cautious. I kept smiling.

When the third walked in, my smile wavered. How could we support ourselves and three of them, I wondered. My smile would not come back, so I kept as straight of a face as I could manage.

My straight face vanished as the fourth walked in. There can't possibly be anymore, I though to myself. But alas, one more soldier stepped into my home.

Mind you, this occurred in a matter of seconds. The soldiers intruded my home in a line without even bothering to acknowledge my family.

Three soldiers had normal dirt colored hair, one had straw blond hair, the final had dark brown like a Greek man. Three soldiers had brown eyes: the straw haired one, the eldest looking one, and the dark haired one. The other two had blue or green eyes.

The eldest spoke. "What a beautiful home you have, for an American at least. Oh little girl, why do tears fall down your face?"

I knew I was crying. I just hoped no one else would notice. A quick lie formed in my young mind. "Oh kind sir, I only shed tears of joy!"

"Really now? Tell me, what joy do you have that causes these tears to leak out?"

No kind of joy I could ever have would make me shed the type of tears that fell that day.  I concluded my lie regardless. "Kind sir, you brave British soldiers will protect us from the American rebels who plagued us during the war. With you soldiers in our home, no American darest step foot in our home without fear striking them down."

The soldiers all smile. The eldest continues talking to me. "Wise words from a young one. A girl on top of that. Tell me young child, what is your name and age?"

"My name is Alice Young and I am twelve years of age."

"My my! Boys do you hear that? Only twelve." The straw haired soldier and dark haired soldier smile, however the ones with colored eyes don't.

"Such a clever child could cause trouble," the blue eyed one says. "We will have to watch her carefully."

"Nonsense," the eldest exclaimed, "She has the voice of a young Loyalist! Such a rare trait among American youth these days." He turns to my mother and father who are silently standing. "Boy, show us to our rooms." Papa does so without hesitation even though I know he hates being called a boy. He is a man, as he would say.

The soldiers follow Papa. The blue eyed one stares at me as they walk away. There is one of two things on his mind and I prayed it was the second one.

I prayed he knew I was letting lies slip so very often through my teeth.