Personal Narrative: The Trail Of Tears

It’s been 3 decades since my journey from East to West. Many have censored and even forgotten what happened on the exodus of the Natives of America. Almost all historical accounts are in the perspective of an American, the perpetrators. How could a tragic event be prevent from in the future if there are no views of a victim. Therefore, I as a witness of the Trail of Tears, have collected my memories to help enlighten those who are clueless. Just as I was about to leave to go berry picking, my mother calls out to me. “ Aquen, come!” She hollered. My mother, was a warmhearted a middle-aged woman. Villagers alway commented on our similar looks, even saying we looked like sisters because of our pale brown skin and dark brown eyes. She was a little bit
Many couldn’t understand the language but because being a younger Cherokee meant learning English, I was able to comprehend small pieces of the speech.
“Unhappily, the two years which were allowed for the purpose, you have suffered to pass away without following, and without making any preparation to follow; and now, or by the time that this solemn address shall reach your distant settlements, the emigration must be commenced in haste, but I hope without disorder.” The man, who I now identified as a general by his badge, continued on with his speech but I had already taken what I needed to know from it. They wanted us to leave… and quickly. After he finished talking time seemed to freeze. Interpreters were slowly reciting back to the clansmen what the heard as if it would buy them more time. As soon as everyone understood what was really happening, there was a wave of wailing Natives. We all feared this day would