Point of View Shift Draft 1

Taylor Rose

Mrs. Rogers

Honors English III

8 March 2011

P.O.V. Shift Draft I

            I wok to de haze en de fog. De fog dat’s ben en my eyes ‘nd covers every island won afta de next jis’ floating and givin me a terrible time, coverin’ up mos my site. Den I’s remember a while befo en de smoke takin’ away Huck from de raf en got him all mix’ up en de islands. My heart drops all heavy ‘kase he didn’ know whah de raf was. My hart a racin’ I know sumf’n wrong, I remembers dis feelin takin’ ovah en makes me sick en my stomac. I tink bout way bac wen I’s yon’ en Ma en I’s mo down south en de white men ‘uz aftuh us. Dem took me from Ma, her sayin’ I’s jis’ be fine en I’s don’ be afeared as de stron white men pull en a tug en sold me away. Dis de feelin in the stomac now dat went in my mind en wuz bringin de sweat down. I’s so afeared bekase I went ‘bout two mile a-comin’ roun the islan lookin’ for Huck. I’s always hated bein alone any mo time ‘kase I’s remember de long som’ers ‘way from Ma, en feelin’ scyered bekase I knows dey wouldn’ bring huh back.

            Alls de suddn’ I hears, “Hello, Jim, have I been asleep?”

En sho enuf, de he is! Ain’ dead, ain’ drownded, ain’ los no mo, I’s so happy he’s back agin, thanks to goodness! I’s start feelin’ like my one tru fren’ en de world es back, who I’s get to see agin, and I knows it won’ be like Ma who ben gone away forevah.

Right as my eyes gon en teared all up, Huck tellin’ me sumf’n wrong en I’s never lost en he’s never left behine en de fog dat’s been around all night. He tellin’ me I didn’ mos’ drowned tryin’ to fin’ him. He tells me I dream all dat up in ten minutes. I start believin’ dat truth he says, but den he go en starts smilin’ en mockin’ Jim fo bein worryn’ as I’s lookin down at de trash en de raf.

            Without smilin’, I turn to him en say how I’s gwyne to tell him I got all wore out wid work tryin’ to save him, en my heart wuz mos’ broke bekase I felt like back wen I’s little en wuz pulled away from Ma, en de fog hangin down en I’s los Huck agin. En wen I wake up en sees Huck all safe en soun’ de tears come down ‘kase he come back to de raf alive, I could a got down en kiss his foot I’s so grateful. En alls he kyered bout wuz makin Jim look uv a fool. Dat truck is trash. En Huck is trash fo treatin Jim so wrong wid dat lie. He should be ashamed fo dat truck en me feelin’ so afeared fo his life like when dey took me from de people I loved.

            My blood boil en turn en I knows Huck don’ kyer en think my feelins dey is diffrent den his when dey de same. De color of de skin don’ change a thing.