My Only Opposition

My only opposition is the British. I can tell because of two reasons. First, it's logic to think that the opposite side of the war would be your enemies because your fighting against them. But there is another reason they despise me, they hate the courage I have to die for my country. The day before I was hanged, I had to spend the night in the greenhouse of the mansion. The greenhouse had to compensate as my jail cell. One of the soldiers guarding the jail, who was kinder than the Colonel that was running the jail, gave me a pen and ink to write my final letters. When I had wrote my last good-byes to those I wouldn't be able to say good-bye to later, I handed them to the soldier. I heard his footsteps walking outside as he handed the letters to the Colonel to send out as my last wish. Even from inside this lonesome cell, you could hear the Colonel vociferating about how he was disgusted at how proud and willing I was to die for my country, and that he would never let the Patriots know about that. I let my head rest against the cold stone wall as I heard the slight sound of crinkling paper.