The Other Side of the Fence (This may change)
an excerpt

In the kitchen I found Amelia and Will talking. As soon as I entered Amelia fell silent, Will looked around, trying to find the source of Amelia’s abrupt silence, and when he saw me his face both brightened and darkened. It was a curious thing to watch. One moment he was smiling at me, and the next he was glowering, in the end he settled for a blank expression that was as frightening to see as if he had started yelling. Will was usually so happy; full of light, and now a strange semi-darkness filled his entire being.
“Well that’s the warmest welcoming I’ve ever had.” I said, falsely cheerful, as if I hadn’t noticed his expression. Will just turned and left the kitchen. Amelia watched him sorrowfully.
“He has a mighty hurt growin’ in side him you know.” Amelia informed me sadly.
“What do I have to do with it?” I asked, genuinely confused.
“His two closest friends can be in the same room together and have a civil conversation. That’s what this has to do with you.” Amelia said quietly, “He heard our little shouting match this morning and asked me about it. I had to tell him,” She continued hurriedly when I tried to interrupt, “He was very upset when I told him what you said.”
“I didn’t mean half of what I said, surely you realized that, Amelia.” I said coldly, “When people are angry or upset a lot of things come out that they later regret. I can recall quite a few times when both you and Will have lost control over things as unimportant as groceries or horses. This was about my dead brother. There was no reason for me to say all those things, but there was also no reason to judge me for them.”
“I’m sorry, Miss. I guess we just didn’t realize that just because your brother is dad that gave you the opportunity to do what ever you wanted. Besides he’s been dead for almost a year now. When my father died I didn’t have the chance to grieve, I mourned at the funeral and then moved on. Oh I still cared about my husband, I just couldn’t dwell on the dead.” Amelia’s voice was even colder than mine had been. Instead of making things better, like I had planned, I had just made things worse. I could have tried to explain to Amelia, but my temper got the better of me and I stormed out of the room.
The rain had let up to a light mist, so I decided to go for a ride to cool off. Saddling Coquette took only a few moments and then we were off. It wasn’t much of a dramatic exit, the ground was soaking and dangerous so we had to take it at a walk. However once we reached the firmer roads into town we sped up to a canter. I loved the feeling of the wind whipping my face. Riding was one of the few things that could make me forget the war. Of course it hadn’t always been this way, when I was little I was terrified of horses. It had taken years to get me on a horse, and then a few more to make a decent rider out of me. Some how I had survived and now riding Coquette was what I did whenever we both had a few hours to spend tearing through the countryside.
Once we were past the town my adventure really began. I rarely rode past the town; usually I had to many things waiting for me at home. Today, however, all those things could wait. I was dimly aware of the passing time, but I wasn’t too concerned. It wasn’t until the prison camp was in sight that I realized how far Coquette and I had traveled. This was where Jonas and the Mullen POW had had to return to every night, no wonder the Mullen POW had escaped. The camp was a dismal, gray looking place. Guards patrolled the perimeter while the POWs’ unlucky enough not to have been assigned to a farm were milling around the yard, however most seemed to have stayed inside their barracks. Not that they looked much warmer than the outside, I don’t think they were insulated at all. It must have been awful during the wintertime.
I passed by slowly. Some of the prisoners saw me and gathered up close to the fence. A few of them jeered, but most stayed quiet. They were either too tired to call out or too angry. Suddenly I realized how foolish I must seem, an English girl come to stare at the Germans as if they were animals in a zoo.
Ashamed I turned away; it was time to start back anyway. If I were lucky I would get back home in time for supper. That is if the family let me eat in the same room as them. All the way back my thoughts kept returning to the prison yard. There had been one man, no more than seventeen, who had looked up at me with eyes so haunted that it had hurt to look into them. You could feel all his pain and fear and hate radiating out of them. Right there and hen I promised myself that I would at least be civil to Jonas. I didn’t have to enjoy his company, but I would no longer show any resentment. Any one who could live in a place like that and still be polite was at least half decent. I probably would have become bitter and hateful, but Jonas was willing to be friends. I actually admired his strength. It probably wasn’t absolutely terrible in the camp, but it couldn’t be a comfortable place to live. Then, of course, there was the feeling of being caged in. I had felt that often before, though never to such an extent, as these men must.
I reached home just in time for supper. Peter, James and Jonas, who knew nothing of this morning’s outburst, were perfectly wonderful supper companions. Especially compared to Amelia and Will. Amelia was probably as annoyed with herself as I was, but we were both to angry with each other to do anything about it. Will, however, had gone a whole day without any kind of explanation, period. I felt awful about leaving now. I should have stayed and talked to William. He was definitely mad at me. He wouldn’t even look me in the eye.
This was the biggest sign that he was angry with me. You could always tell when he was in a good mood when he looked you right in the eye. Most people had a hard time adjusting to his frank gaze, but I had grown up with it. Oh, every once in a while I would manage to catch his gaze, but only for a moment. During that moment he would deliver one of his killer glares and the quickly look away. It was undeniable. We had to talk.
After supper I asked James if he would mind walking Jonas to the hilltop. At first he was reluctant, but when I explained that I needed to talk to Will he agreed quickly. They were gone almost before Will made it out of the kitchen, which was when I drew him aside.
“We need to talk.” I whispered to him as Peter walked past.
“Why?” He growled, “So you can yell at me and then slander Jonas some more? Well I don’t want to hear it!”
“No! That’s not why we need to talk at all! I just want to explain things to you.” He still looked reluctant, but he followed me into the library anyway.