Name: Annie Bolten

Age: 14

Job/position: Former slave, now a part time nurse, and caretaker of her siblings

Personality: Determined, courageous, optimistic, longs for an education and for her siblings to get one too. Once a sick soldier who she helped her mom care for taught her a little bit about reading, but that was the closest she ever got to receiving an education.

Appearance: Dark brown skin, long braided black hair, hazel eyes. Wears the same uniform as her mom when she's being a nurse, and a blue or white dress when she's not.

Background: Her family used to live in Virginia where they were slaves of a wealthy plantation owner. They were very lucky that their family didn't get split apart in the slave trade. One night they fled to Pennsylvania where Annie's father joined the union, her mother became a nurse, and Annie helped her mother and took care of her siblings.

Other: She has an 8 year old brother, a 4 year old sister, and a 5 year old sister. 

I just realized that my charrie has the same name and job as Mirax T.'s charrie, so I'll change my charrie's name to April.

@Isabelle: wow you know a lot about the Civil War! I don't think I really know that much O.o 

I'll post my second thingy once everyone has had their turn. 

Annika~ I pull the girl from the tent and into the open air. Her eyes are open wide with shock,. “ Shhh, it will be alright,” I ease her into a sitting position and hurry to the free flowing stream nearby, an old tin cup in my hand. Helping her slowly drink the water, I mutter encouragingly as she stares blankly at the tent we just exited. Inside that tent a man had just died of blood loss. “Thank you,” she finally stutters out. “What’s your name?” I ask gently, guiding her towards the Head nurse, a middle aged woman with iron gray hair.  “Mary,” she replies timidly. I give her over to the Head nurse and tell her what had happened. After saying goodbye to Mary, I run back to my tent. The first I had ever seen something like what Mary had just witnessed, had been when my brother was run over by a plow. I had followed my mother's frantic commands in shock and remember little about that day. I forget about Mary when I enter the tent to find two of my roommates, Betsy and Constance-Augusta (She confided in me that she has a sister named Maribel-Octavia) fighting over whose side of the room is the nicer one, my third roommate, Jane, watching disinterestedly from her immaculate corner of the room. I walk calmly over to my camp bed and begin neatly folding my rough wool blanket. My only personal items are a sketch from my brother of my family’s farm and a creased and folded letter, starting to deteriorate along the edges. After making sure my part of the room is tidy, I pull Connie and Betsy apart, and rush to dinner.

April~

"April, James, Caroline, Abigail, time to get up!"

I am woken up by my mother calling me and my sibling's names, and by the smell of breakfast. I walk into the small kitchen to find my mother cooking a delicious hot breakfast. My three younger siblings all walk into the kitchen and sit down at the table waiting for the food to be ready. I help my mother, with the meal, and then my siblings and I sit down at a table.

Mother quickly has a few bites and then kisses each of us on the cheek, and heads out the door. She is a nurse in the Civil War, and I often help her. My father is a union soldier who is currently fighting somewhere in New York.

I used to be a slave in Virginia with my family. We worked on a tobacco plantation and often suffered from extreme heat and exhaustion. Luckily, even though the owner was mean, he couldn't stand seeing families broken up through the slave trade, so we got to stay together.

One night a man that we knew, named Jack Allen came to our shack along with another family that sometimes worked in the field with us. They were planning an escape from the plantation and wanted to know if we wanted to come with them. My parents discussed this for a few minutes, and then they said yes, because they wanted a better life for their children and themselves.

The night was warm and humid, and insects flew everywhere, our path was illuminated only by one small lamp, so that we didn't risk getting caught. We boarded a few small rowboats, women and children going first, and escaped down a river, eventually reaching Pennsylvania where our family found the small house that we are currently living in. We hope to eventually earn enough money to buy a larger house. I was really happy when we finally escaped to the north, where slavery was banned, but shortly after arriving, the Civil War started, and it seemed like we walked out of one nightmare and into another.

Okay here is my second thingy!

Lucy~ For the second time in life (the first being when I escaped), I am filled with excitement and wonder. After all my papers are signed and checked off and stacked away, I am escorted by the recruiter, along with several other boys my age. 

We are in a steady, straight line as we approach a long, wooden table. There are many drums sitting on it, each with a unique look. 

"Pick one out," orders our recruiter.

The other kids stop moving and begin turning the instruments over in the hands. They murmur and discuss among themselves which one to choose.

Ignoring most of them, I bend down and carefully study each one. A lot of them are already being whisked away before I can grab them, but one drum catches my eye; It looks so special. It's dyed pretty colors of royal blue and trimmed with shining brass. Like the others, it's made from senew, but the cow hide is exceptionally soft--I bet a lovely cow gave up its life for it. 

"Hey you," says someone behind me. He pokes me in the back. "Get a move on it! You been gawking at that thing for five minutes."

I groan silently. "Oh, I'm sorry," I say, trying to make my voice deep. I pick up the drum and its smooth, wooden sticks, and carry it around my arm by its leather strap, like a purse.

The others snicker.

This is gonna be harder than I thought. 

---

For the first time in my life, I regret doing this. I am then escorted to a base camp, and it is immediately filled with rowdy boys.

I sigh and walk over to my tiny bed, made from sheets with holes and grease stains. Next to it an oil latern, glowing like a bright star.