I came home from the meeting, my head spinning. Me, Joseph Sanders?

I had been asked to settle a colony in the New World? Unthinkable. England was my home, my past. It was where my friends lived, where I lived, for that matter. How could I ever bear to leave it? I thought back to my time with John White. The widely revered Sir Walter Raleigh had asked him to lead a third expedition of settlers to Roanoke, the first English settlement in the New World. And he had asked me to join him. My uncle Ludwig had met John White back in 1491, just before Columbus set foot in the New World. They worked together, and I, as an apprentice to my uncle, had gotten to know Mr. White as well. We became good friends, though we were sometimes slow to correspond over the years. This morning, however, John White visited my house, unannounced, and asked me to meet him for lunch, saying that he had something of great importance to ask me. It turned out, of course, to be an invitation on his expedition to the New World. I agonized over my answer for hours that night. Such short notice for such an important decision! How could he expect me to decide so quickly? I slowly dozed off, but before I completely drifted into unconsciousness, I knew what I must do. I was going to be among the first to settle the New World. The next morning, I began to assemble my supplies for the trip. I had a day to do it. I had been the last invitee on the trip, asked to go only after another man backed out at the last moment, and so I had to make great haste in my preparation. I looked around the house, never realizing before now how many useless things I owned. I was only allowed to fill a small crate, due to lack of room on the ship, so I packed just the necessities - some clothes, an extra pair of boots, an axe and a shovel, some cooking utensils, a blanket, a gun and ammunition, a couple keepsakes from my family, and a bit of extra food. I spent the rest of the day putting my affairs in order. I went to bed, knowing it would be the last time I ever did so in England. I didnt know exactly why I had chosen to go to the new world - maybe for freedom, maybe for adventure, maybe simply out of an obligation I felt to Mr. White. I knew, however, that I had made the right decision. The port was an obscenely noisy place, with a hustle and bustle unique to nowhere else. Most of my close relatives had passed away, and I was unmarried, so I had no major goodbyes to make. I made my way through the swarms of people, lugging my crate of supplies behind me. The crate was promptly taken from me when I boarded the ship, and carried down to the lower levels. I was shown to my quarters and told that we would be leaving port shortly. Nearly everyone else was already on board. I stood on the deck, watching my fellow sailors test the ropes and check the supplies one last time. A horn blew, the sailors gave a final wave to their families, and we were off to the New World at last. Everyone was overjoyed during the first day on the ship. We numbered around one hundred people in total, though I am unsure of the exact number. Richard Wilkington, the second-in-command for John White, handed out job assignments. We all shared duties such as cleaning the ship, cooking the meals, and tidying up the living quarters, though some of us were assigned other jobs as well. I met one man already

today, by the name of Thomas Blethmoth. He, like me, has no immediate family, and is on this trip to the Roanoke settlement purely for the adventure of it. He said that this is not the case for most of the others, though. He believes many of our fellow settlers have come purely to dig for gold. That night, at dinnertime, John White had us all gather round the dining area while he gave us what one might call an inspirational speech. He reminded us why we were here, and how, even overseas, our loyalty to the Royalty of England must continue. He then stressed that we would never succeed in our individual pursuits without assisting in our universal one - to settle Roanoke. The second day on the boat was when the seasickness began to set in. After a night of the constant rocking of the waves, the majority of our crew began vomiting incessantly. I myself, this having only been my second ride on a ship of this size, began to feel a bit of nausea coming on, but it subsided before dusk. Most had a difficult time getting to sleep, for the living quarters stank of vomit. Life on the ship was easy by no accounts. We began work at sunup and kept at it until sundown, hammering and scrubbing and pounding until everything was in tip-top shape. Many complained of the hard work, a shadow of what was to come when we landed in the New World. About halfway through our journey, we spotted ominous clouds on the western horizon as far as an eye could see. They were unlike any I had ever seen before, but we decided there was no choice but to go straight towards them. We were soon trapped in a torrential downpour, with waves over one hundred feet high and thunder that sounded as though the world was crumbling to pieces. Mr. White tried in vain to steer the boat. Mr. Wilkington tried to calm everyone down below deck, but it was of no use. Frantic settlers ran every which way. Theres a leak in the cargo hold! someone shouted. A mob of people, including myself, ran down to where the supplies and crates of belongings were stored. A well-sized gap in the wall was letting in water, soaking everything. Three or four people tried to fix it, one of whom was Thomas Blethmoth. They were successful, but water still flooded the entire lower level. People with buckets were everywhere, trying to save their belongings. I knew the gunpowder I had brought was done for. Eventually, the rain lessened, and slowly, things on the ship returned to normal. The rainstorm had considerably worsened everyones disposition, despite what John White tried to do to raise morale. People slowly began to take less care in their jobs about the ship. The beds were infested with fleas, the food was soggy, and most peoples belongings were ruined. Then, one day, we awoke to the same horn that had signaled the start of our journey. My fellow settlers bounded out of bed with jubilance I never knew they had. As we rounded the stairs to the main deck, our hopes proved to be true. We had reached our destination. Roanoke. As we left the ship, we were greeted by an ill omen: the bones of one of the soldiers who had remained behind during the last expedition to Roanoke. Most of us

shook of this gruesome welcome, but if we had looked a little more closely, we might have smelled something a little odd...a smell that closely resembled vinegar. We spent the first few days rebuilding what was left of Roanoke from the two previous times it had been settled, both of which had failed. This consisted of rethatching roofs, replacing rotting logs, and re-laying stone pathways. Immediately after we had finished this rebuilding, John Whites daughter, who had been pregnant for quite some time, gave birth to a baby girl, whom she named Virginia Dare. We realized, after quite some thought on the matter, that little Virginia was the first English baby born in the New World. Each family was given a house to live in, and I, though alone on this journey, received a nice one as well. I chose one directly next to Thomas Blethmoths, with whom I had, by this time, become very good friends. We began our work right afterwords. I am surprised at the skillful leadership of John White, who has prevented anyone from digging for gold, and instead managed to make us all work together to improve the colony. The average day of mine goes like this: I wake up at the crack of dawn, and eat a small breakfast with Thomas Blethmoth and a few other settlers. I then assist in building and rebuilding canoes, houses, tables, chairs, boxes, and the like. After a brief lunch, I continue my work until later that afternoon, when I have a short period of free time before I eat dinner with the other settlers and go to bed. Exactly twenty-three days after we arrived at the island, we were met by a group of natives who call themselves The Powhatans and who say they come from a nearby island called Croatoan. We trade a few of our goods with them for things such as fresh meat and berries, and weapons. They then return, by carved-out log, to their island. Just a few days after our meeting with the natives, John White calls a settlementwide meeting. He said that he was concerned about the low amount of food and supplies left in our settlement, and was preparing to go, with Mr. Wilkington and a few other settlers, to England to ask the Queen and Sir Walter Raleigh for more supplies. He instructed us to continue doing as we were, and that this would make the colony stay in a fine state while he was away. He was to leave the following morning, requiring all the rest of us to fend for ourselves. The first few days in the absence of Mr. White were not a problem. Soon, however, a few settlers began to neglect their duties, and, instead of helping Roanoke prosper, began to dig for gold. They became insane with greed, and even when not finding any of that shiny yellow metal, kept digging. And digging. And digging. Slowly, the houses began to deteriorate, and not long after that, supplies began to drop to unprecedented levels. People began to worry that food would run out, but still, they did not stop digging for gold. Weeks turned into months, and still, John White had not returned. Everyone was now speculating that he never would, that maybe the English Queen had not allowed him to do so. Peoples daily rations became less and less, and smallpox began to spread throughout Roanoke. Blame was assigned, and people were at each others throats.

One morning, I awoke to shouting. I went outside, and standing with knives pointed at each others hearts, were two colonists. One was Thomas Blethmoth. How dare you steal my rations? he screamed. I was lost for words. Why, you rotten, filthy knave, you... At that precise moment, a high-pitched cackle erupted from the woods on the far side of our settlement. Both men fell silent. All the settlers stopped what they were doing and ran to investigate the noise. It happened again, a distorted voice laughing. I sniffed the air nervously. That was when I smelled the vinegar. With the loudest cackle yet, a huge, grossly fat, green creature stumbled out of the woods, uprooting trees as it went. It was a terrible sight, over fifty feet tall and covered in bumps. Several settlers screamed and ran. The rest held their ground and fired their guns at the creature. It shrieked loudly, but the bullets only bounced off the creatures slimy, dripping hide. The nightmarish thing broke into a run, laughing terribly, and drooling green goo. We tried to run, but it was no use. The creature grabbed the nearest settler, and, screaming, shoved him down throat with a gulp. He took another step and grabbed another settler, and this time, I saw that it was Thomas Blethmoth, but there was nothing I could do. I ran for my life, dodging wildly to avoid the trees that this enraged creature was now hurling at its potential victims. I could only think of one way to escape this creature...to travel by canoe to Croatoan Island, and seek refuge with the Powhatans. I had to let John White know where I had gone. I desperately grabbed for my knife, and, on the nearest tree stump, began to carve. C...R...O...A...T...O...A...N...I was about to carve the final figure, a cross, meaning that I had left due to danger, but I was interrupted by a scream from one of the creatures victims. It was just a few yards away from me now, and I ran, knife in hand, as fast as I could towards the water. That was when I realized the frightening truth. I was the only settler left. I could hear the creature closing in, and, with another high pitched giggle, the thing grabbed me and prepared to make me its next meal. I was ready for it, though. I quickly twisted around and cut off one of the creatures fingers with my knife. It wailed terribly and I was sprayed with vinegar, but the creature dropped me in its pain. I ran towards the boat with all my might, and when I boarded it and pushed off the shore, I heard a sickening crunch. I turned just in time to see that the creature had eaten its detached finger. I retched and nearly threw up at the sight of something so disgusting. With a sense of hopelessness, I rowed towards the direction of Croatoan Island. I watched as, with a wet sounding pop, the creature detached its eyeball from its eye socket and prepared to throw it at me. That was when I realized who this creature really was...Johny the Friendly Pickle. Then the eye hit me with a loud smack on the head, and I lost consciousness. Forever.