Time Traveler's Mistake [on hold]

Chapter Eight

Hello all wattpad readers,

So, um hi this is my very first 'authors note' or watever. I want to thank all of you for reading my book. I try every day to squeeze in sometime to spend on my book. I also want to thank the readers who voted for Time Travelers Mistake, I really appreciate it. Please feel free to comment!!

Enjoy the book!!!

heyhey800

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Chapter 8

Bens POV

Ben was walking through the vast hills of Gettysburg in 1863, hot, hungry, tired, and extremely flustered.

His sweaty ginger hair was plastered to his forehead while he walked past an old farm, the sun beating mercilessly down on his pale skin, which never gets tan. Ever. His body was definetly not built for this time period.

Wherever he walked, people working outside their houses, stared and whispered amongst each other.

Was he really that ugly looking?

The dull rocks of the bumpy road dug into his bare feet. The 19th century farmer boy outfit he was wearing didn't come with shoes.

Ben grimaced as something cold dripped down on his sunburned shoulder. Squinting his eyes, he looked up and saw a little boy peering out of a two story window of a farm he was passing, holding a watering can.

The little boy stared back down at him with his wide hazel eyes, his platinum blonde hair glinting in the sunlight. Ben raised his arm up painfully, and gave the little boy a small wave.

His chubby face broke into a wide grin and his sound of his tiny laughter twinkled away as the little boy turned back into his room.

Seconds later, a middle aged woman stuck her head out of the window, her eyes roaming the landsacpe until they landed on Ben. She smiled kindly down at him, until she seemed to notice something in his hair, and her smile melted.

Angrily, she turned back into her household, muttering something under her breath that sounded like, "Those damn Irish.." and something else Ben couldn't comprehend.

Why does everyone keep thinking he's Irish? What was wrong with these people?

That was the fifth time someone had called him an Irish today, and Ben figured that it probably won't be the last.

The tired and weary thirteen year old sighed and continued to trudge onwards in Gettysburg, seeking shelter that he may not find.

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5 hours earlier

"What do you mean you have to go?"

Ben and Mr. Patterson were sitting beneath a tall oak tree right next to the graveyard. Ben was giving Mr. Patterson a pleading, almost desparate look.

"You-you can't just leave me! I'm gonna be all alone! What, do you expect me to just survive on my own in a place I've never been to?"

Mr. Patterson grimaced. "I don't expect anything from you, Ben--"

"Not to mention, a different freaking time period! " Ben emphasized, ignoring Mr. Patterson.

"How do people talk in this time period? What if they get suspicious? What if--"

"Ben-"

"What if they find out that I'm a time traveler and decide to burn me?"

"Ben..."