Personal Narrative: The Pulse Of Rebellion

It is very dark outside in Boston tonight. I can feel the pulse of rebellion in every street corner and winding pathway. This change is exciting, especially since I am alive and blessed enough to experience it. My mother, Elizabeth Anderson, and father, Christopher Anderson, are not. Even though they are only in there 30’s, the weight of this rebellion does not sit valiantly on their shoulders. My father came to the new world when he was just 15, and has faced what I wish to never experience in my lifetime. Nonetheless, it is a new time now; 1773! I, named after my mother, am Elizabeth Anderson, and hope to carry rebellion dutifully on my shoulders for all three of us. Even though I am only 15 years old and just a young girl, there is something special about Boston, and I am ready to experience it. …show more content…
It is afternoon now and I walk with my mother to buy some food from the market. Fights are breaking out between colonists and redcoats- not like this is anything new. However, the colonists are wilder today and their eyes scream fire, as do their mouths: “You’re going to tax us with tea now aren’t you, redcoat?” one man spits, “Well tell that bloody King of England that we won’t drink his godforsaken tea unless he pushes it down our throats himself!” Oh! Realization floods over me as I comprehend that the men are talking about the Tea Act, a law passed by parliament that forces colonists to get a tax on their tea, and only buy tea made and sold by the British East India Company. My mother, terrified by all of the commotion, runs back home and tells me to continue buying goods for dinner tonight. Little does she know that my time at the market is short, for I have heard a rumor that a Sons of Liberty’s meeting will transpire at The Old South Meeting House. My feet cannot get me there fast

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