The Mystery of Roanoke Island

        John White had only left back to England two months ago. That's when everything changed. Two weeks after John left, the food began to dwindle. Villagers fought over rations. My friend, a Spaniard who ran away from his presido in St. Augustine, and I quietly stole food to satisfy our hunger. My parents went with John back to England. I hoped they would return soon. Now, everything was in chaos. My Spaniard friend, Leo, and I went out of our cabin very rarely. All the food had been eaten. We couldn't hunt because the Natives controled the woodlands. I sat in the dark cabin with Leo, starving. We rarely talked out of fear of being heard. Also, we spoke little of each others language. We jumped in surprise when a rock shattered a window and flew past my head. A growling voice echoed through the cabin. The stranger yelled as he saw Leo peek at him behind the wall. He charged at us but there was no where we could run. We stood in fear as he ran forward. The man tackled Leo and began to maul his face. I screamed in terror and tried to pry the cannibal away but I couldn't. Leo was gone. There was nothing I could do. Running for my life, I exited the cabin and nearly fainted from what I saw. Bodies strewn across the village, limbs missing and seemingly chewed. I decided I'd rather die by a Native arrow than be eaten alive. I ran into the forest and that was the end of Roanoke.