Creative Writing: Anna's Cry

A screech rang through Anna’s head. Her heart stopped.
Anna and her mother looked up from making their hardtack to find Adam, Anna’s brother, writhing in pain with tears streaming down his dirty face. Horrified, Anna looked at what had caused the screech of pain, which was a hefty wagon crushing Adam’s short, skinny leg.
Anna froze up with fear as her mother sprinted over to Adam, trying helplessly to lift the wagon off of Adam’s crushed leg.
“Anna! Help me!” her mother screamed hoarsely, face tight with tears. Anna still stood there frozen. Her mouth was stuck open, eyes getting wider and wider by the second.
“Anna!” her mother pleaded.
Finally, she felt herself sprinting forward and coming to her brother’s side. She and her mother gripped the wagon on either side, and

Anna could still hear the man telling the story. It was getting darker. He was explaining how the white men took his father’s wife. What they did to her. The audience was going silent, overcome with emotions. Papa reached the top of the hill. Anna saw Papa peering down into the valley of the hill. None of the Indians noticed him, they were too immersed in the story. The man’s voice grew louder, also booming the words, “And then, the white man pulled his gun out and-” BOOM. The sound punched Anna in the face, reverberating inside her head. Cries came from the Indians of surprise and terror. Papa got up and stood at the top of the hill, a devilish grin plastered on his face. “Chaska!” a woman cried, most likely the wife to the man telling the story. Anna looked to her mother, who had tears rolling down her face. Anna realized she had tears rolling down her own face as well. Suddenly, Anna heard a cry come from her own father. She whipped her head back to see an arrow through the middle of his head. His large body dropped to the ground, seeming to shake the whole