Atticus Bray: A Young Boy of Courage

Chapter 1

The small pitter-patter of footsteps could be heard throughout vacant the halls of a small house. The footsteps belonged to a child wandering aimlessly, with a small flashlight, looking for a story. She had overheard people at family gathering talk about her history, but she was never allowed the details. She knew if she didn't explore her grandparent's attic for clues, she would be left in the dark forever.
Upon reaching the door, she stopped, thinking about how much trouble she would get into with her family. Nevertheless, she opened the door and flipped on the lights to the room. She took a hesitant step forward, not wanting to have any of the old floorboards squeak. After many slow steps into the room a loud wail erupted from the floor. She froze. She looked back hoping no one had charged up the stairs at the sudden noise. After a moment of staring at the door, she continued her path to the old dusty bookshelf. When she got there, she searched through it, hoping to find the book about her family's past.
She had finally found the book; it was hiding behind crusty old encyclopedias. She took the book and sat next to an old chest. A cold draft was felt when she sat down. The girl soon realized a window was open. Being too tired to close it, she turned and opened the chest and took out a blanket. Snuggled in the warmth of the blanket, she opened the book and began her journey. With each page came a newfound security of who she really was. Each page was more fascinating than the next. After what seemed like hours of reading, she suddenly stopped on one page. This page, to her at least, did not seem like any ordinary page. The title at the top of the page sparked interest in her mind. Atticus Bray Leads Young Men to Help in Revolution.
"Atticus Bray?" The girl whispered aloud to see if the name rang a bell. "Atticus Bray, as in my really great grandpa? No it can't be. My family could never leave their mark in history." She put the question aside and instead focused on the story. "Abigail?" A calm, low voice came from behind the chest. The girl, froze not daring to move. "Abigail, I know you're in here. And don't worry, I won't tell a soul that you are looking through that book."
Abigail stood up slowly and faced her grandpa. "Grandpa? How did-" Her grandpa cut her off mid sentence. "How did I know?" Abigail nodded. Her grandpa let out a small laugh and continued. "If you want to sneak out the best you can do is leave pillows to make it look like you are still in bed." Abigail gave her grandpa a questionable look. "Aren't you mad?" Abigail's grandpa moved towards the chest she was sitting by and sat down.
"Why would I? You want to know about your past, that doesn't bother me. You know I was about your age when I was first told the story of my great grandfather, who lived during the American Revolution." Abigail sat back down beside her grandpa. "Can you tell me about him?" "Of course child, I would never stop history from being told." Abigail's mischievous look reflected the one that spread across her grandpa's face as well. "How should I begin? How about here." Abigail's grandpa took the book out of her hand and opened to a page with a small drawing on it. "The meeting of the Second Continental Congress, 1775."