I ... I ... don't want to be any trouble Miss Becci," he stuttered, not removing his eyes from my body."It's no trouble at all," David said. "Is it Si...?" No, of course not Mr. Johnson," I replied."Just some milk then please, Miss Becci," Mr. Johnson replied.I smiled at him calling me Miss Becci. It reminded me of a love story that Barbara Cartland would write, where the hero was always tall, dark and handsome and the heroine was always a poor girl who had suffered in life from birth until the. Father had decided that he would go on his own to seek out the tribe, to try and prove we could be friendly with them.When Mother found out what my Father had done she went to the Shaman to seek help in retrieving my father. The Shaman only laughed and told her that she could join my Father in his fate, he banished her and I from the village and gave orders should we return we would be made a sacrifice to the spirits. All while he prepared the village for war.Being nine winters old I had been. More

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