“Fire!” That was the last sound we heard before our fort was blown down by their powerful cannon. Little bits of soil flew into the air as fellow warriors landed on their backs from the aftermath of their cannon. Each and everyone of us were covered in dirt and blood. There were trees all around us and Mother Nature surrounding the battlefield. The grass was comfortable and the trees swung with the power of the wind.The smell of blood stung my nose as I began to raise my bow. I am only 22 yet I have fought in battles like these numerous times since the white man settled. I am both my village’s warrior, and one of their hunters. I provide food and clothing with the animals I hunt and kill. Additionally I have to fight, to protect my people from the devilish white man.We quickly recover full of anger and frustration. Knowing it was our turn to attack we shot a dozen arrows at the white man from their front, right, and left. We only hit six of their 20 men with our wooden arrows. Taking advantage of the damage, we all ran with daggers and spears in hands. Boom! Dozens of these noises were made by the thunder sticks in the hands of the white men. As more booms sounded more of my fellow fighters were killed. Those weapons are too strong compared to our sticks and stones, but we must fight for our land.  

I had just stabbed a white man directly in his chest when I heard a loud “ARGGGHH!” From a voice that was all too familiar. I turned around and saw my best friend Ishu on the dirty ground with blood flood flowing out of his stomach. I ran to him not caring if I was shot or not.

“What happened?” I asked with tears running down my face.

“What does it look like I was shot,” His voice is fainter than a whisper, he’s a goner. WHY, WHY, WHY?!?! Does it have to happen. All the violence and death. There should be no conflict because this land belongs to us. We were all born and raised here, and now our home is being destroyed. I threw my spear at one of the white men and missed. Noticing me he turned and fired his exploding stick. The bullet pierced through my left arm and I felt white hot flames of pain run through the entirety of my body. I fell to the floor and time seemed to slow down. Cannons seemed to move like turtles, running looked like walking, and blood seemed to stay in mid-air. I fell and felt the dirty brown soil on my naked back. My time in pain felt like hours but were probably mere seconds, before I slowly got back. It took all my strength just to get up, but I had to in order to fight for my people. The white men were retreating, and so were we. The 14 that remained of our earlier 40 walked back slowly, each of us aching with pain. This battle that seemed so big was actually so small because many more of these fights will take place, growing in violence, and amount of casualties.