A few weeks after I saw my family trying to sway the vote in Kansas, Oliver and I rushed to the signs posted around the town of the voting results. Outside our doorstep was a results sign posted next to the front window.
The sign proudly read:
"Kansas is officially a pro-slavery territorial legislature. Only pro-slavery men are allowed to hold territorial offices or serve on juries. Death penalty to anyone who causes a slave rebellion."
I gasped in shock. "This is inhumane!"
"And illegal too," Oliver added. "This can't be tolerated."
"What should we do?" I glanced at my friend who was so in thought it looked like gears were spinning in his mind.
"I have an idea," Oliver finally announced. "I'll hold a meeting here. At our house. We'll come up with a new constitution and we'll ban slavery in Kansas."
***
A few weeks after the results signs were posted in Topeka, the deliberation about the new constitution was finally complete, and slavery was now banned in Kansas. The crowds inside and outside of our house cheered once the constitution was complete, but I stood in silence. In the back of my mind, I thought about how Evan might feel about the new Kansas constitution.
After the majority of Kansas' population approved of the new constitution, it was sent to congress, and soon after that, Kansas was admitted to the Union as a free state. Oliver and I couldn't be happier.
***
I scrambled into Oliver's room, my cardigan slipping off of my shoulders. "Oliver! Wake up! Someone's being murdered outside!"
Oliver jumped out of bed and I quickly led him downstairs and outside, where an antislavery man was being beaten by pro-slavery men. Each of the pro-slavery men were armed with a knife, and they took turns to chop at the innocent man's limbs.
"Hey!" I shouted, my hands cupped to my mouth. "Stop that! You're going to kill the poor man!"
"Isn't that the point of this?" One of the pro-slavery men rasped angrily. He spat at the ground and continued to work on killing the anti-slavery man.
I groaned in frustration. "Get away from him!" I shouted as I sprinted toward the mob of attackers.
I quickly kicked one of the men in the jaw, sending him backward. He yelped in pain and fell over, his hands gripping his broken jaw.
"Now, you'll never be able to speak like that again," I growled. "Or, you probably won't be able to speak at all."
Another one of the attackers lunged at me in revenge, but I kicked him in the groin, causing him to bend over in aching pain. I dashed over to him and kneed him in the nose, instantly breaking it. The man fell forward and face planted on the cold, dusty road.
Oliver came storming out of the house, his arms flailing. "Evan! There's too many of them! Back off now! We can't save this guy!"
"But-" My words were muted as Oliver scooped me over his shoulder, causing me to lose the air in my lungs.
Once I was able to breathe again, I flailed my arms and legs. "Let me at them! I need to save that man!" I could still see the remaining members of the little posse beating the innocent man. He was on the ground curled into a fetal position, begging for mercy.
An ear-splitting cry sliced the sky. It was me shouting the word No at the top of my lungs as the posse finally decapitated the innocent man. His head rolled a few feet ahead, almost causing me to gag. If Oliver hadn't scooped me onto his shoulder, that man would be alive and breathing.
Any pro-slavery man who lays their hands on an anti-slavery man, I vowed to myself. Will feel the wrath of Evangeline Freebourne.
***
A few days after the murder of the innocent, anti-slavery man, I stayed in the streets, scanning everyone to make sure no violence broke out. I sat on the bench in the shade, my knife in hand. I turned it to admire its glint in the afternoon sun.
Suddenly, I see a police officer grab the wrists of a random lady. He slammed her against the wall of a store. I eavesdropped on the conversation.
"How dare you rebel against this country's tradition called slavery, little lady," he growled. He spat out the last two words with such hatred and anger that it made me cringe.
"B-but," she stammered. "There's a new constitution now, and you can't hurt anyone that rebels against slavery." Her words were shaky, quiet, and I could instantly tell that the policeman was scaring her.
"Oh," he laughed. "You think that I abide by those stupid laws made by some sore losers? Pssh. They were just sad that they lost and just flipped the rules around. I'm going by the real constitution that we voted for, it's all fair and square," He had a difference in tone this time. His words were solemn and intimidating. He was getting annoyed.
I, myself, became annoyed too. Annoyed how this pompous police officer can stride up to anyone against slavery and be able to arrest them. Why can't he just tell them to be pro-slavery? It would be better that using violence to solve your problems.
Frustration and anger boiled within me. I rose from my bench, my pistol in hand. I stored over to the struggling lady and the angry police officer. My knuckles grew white as I clutched the knife, but I knew that I would use my words before trying to solve the problem with violence. I hoped to never come to violence and have the police officer just continue with his day.
"Excuse me," I said with an irritated tone.
The police officer whipped his head around to take a glance at me.
"Ah," he chuckled from deep in his stomach. "It's little Evangeline Freebourne, trying to gain more fame by telling me off."
"It's not like that, I wasn't trying to gain more fame," I snarled. "I was simply doing the right thing by helping my friend escape."
The police officer gasped. "Was that little slave girl your friend? Jewel, correct? I remember seeing her in Wisconsin running for her life. She wanted to get to Canada oh-so-bad. Too bad that I was in the way." He twirled a pistol of his own in one of his hands while still holding the lady hostage.
I connected the dots quickly. I figured out that the police officer was at the Canada-America border, and when Jewel attempted to cross, the officer shot and killed her with the very same pistol he is holding right now.
Suddenly, I screamed. Not from pain, not from any type of physical blow that hurt me. I was mentally and emotionally hurt, knowing that one of my best friends from my childhood was gone.
I would never be able to hear her sweet, uplifting voice. I would never be able to have sewing lessons with her, no matter how much I hated it. I would never be able to see her bouncy curly hair coil around the sides of her face, and I would never be able to see those beautiful blue eyes that I loved so much.
I couldn't take it anymore. A waterfall of tears streamed down my cheeks, blurring my vision. I growled at the police officer, my anger showing in my tone. My cheeks suddenly became warm as I wrapped my sweaty fingers around the handle of my knife.
"Go to hell," I mumbled sharply under my breath to the police officer.
Without hesitation, I swung my arm toward the police officer's chest, and I plunged the blade into his lungs, instantly puncturing them. He was sent backward and landed in a ball of aching pain. Blood oozed out of his chest, pooling next to him. I didn't care for his pain, he deserved to not see tomorrow.
I wiped my sweaty forehead and made my way to the lady.
"Are you alright?" I asked, my voice shaky from my previous fit of anger.
She nodded slowly. "Yes, I'm fine. Thanks for, uh," she paused awkwardly. "Thanks for killing that police officer. He was doing stuff like this since he was a teenager, and he was never caught."
All I could respond with was a smile, and I finally said have a nice day.
The lady wished me a nice day also, and we both parted ways, and I didn't notice the rest of the officer's posse in the distance that I should've taken care of. After murdering that police officer, the idea of murder became more comfortable with me.