I know, its kind of cheesy. Okay, really cheesy.

But it needs a title and I hadn't posted anything in a while, so I went ahead and posted it. I know, its kinda long, but I always appreciate reviews.

So tell me what you think!

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“Where are the O’Riley's?” cried Lucy, running up to mother with tears in her eyes.

“Why, what do you mean, Lucy?”

“I went to play with Josh, but he’s not there. None of them are!”

I looked up sharply, my throat tightening.

“When, Lucy?”

“Just this morning, after I went to gather eggs.”

Mother pursed her lips and hurried out the front door with Lucy in tow. I set down the dish I was washing and ran after them. My long blue skirts tugged at my legs as I ran, slowing me down. Patrick wasn’t gone too, was he?

No, he couldn’t be…

“Lizzie!” I stopped as I felt a tug on my skirt.

“What’s going on?” asked little Emilee, her hazel eyes wide.

“The O’Riley's are gone.” I breathed, letting the words sink in.

“But don’t worry – I’m sure we’ll find them.” I said, trying to steady my voice. Emilee wrapped her little arms around my waist, whimpering, and around us came the cries of neighbors as they discovered the O’Riley's’ disappearance.

“I’m scared.” She whispered.

“It’s okay.” I said, bending down to take the girl into my arms. She buried her face into my shoulder as I stroked her brown curls thoughtfully.

Where could they have gone to? Another settlement? Patrick would have told me ‘goodbye’ first, wouldn’t he? Unless…

I shuddered and made my way toward Mr. Smith, the man in charge while Governor John White was gone, who was talking to his serving boy, Geoffrey. I picked my way across the dirt road, avoiding the panicked frenzy that filled the small road.

“Mr. Smith!” I cried, clutching Emilee tightly. He paused in his conversation to look over at me worriedly.

“Yes, what is it, Elizabeth?”

“Is it true? Are they really gone?”

“I’m afraid so, Elizabeth.” He looked pained and turned away, as a sob caught in my throat.

~-*-~

Nothing. Absolutely nothing; as though they’d never even existed. I stared into the empty room, my eyes searching for something – anything – that could tell me where my darling Patrick was. I walked slowly inside, letting my hand slide over the familiar wooded walls. I felt like a ghost must, seeing the life that once was, and mourning it. My skirts dragged on the floor, my footsteps echoing in the little house. Through tear-filled eyes I looked down at the ring on my finger; the now empty promise of the future.

The small diamond winked back at me from its silver band in the fading light.

~-*-~

“How many more will we lose?” demanded Mrs. Smith. It had been a week since the O’Rileys disappearance, and over half the colony had vanished as well. I missed little Emilee, who had been found missing two days ago, and I couldn’t help but wonder what had become of my small friend.

“Well, what can we do?” huffed Jacob Bryant.

“No one knows where they go, nor why, nor who’s the next target.”

Murmurs of agreement passed among the settlers.

Seven-year-old Alexander squirmed in his mother’s arms from beside me, and finally cried out:

“Its them Injuns, I swear it!”

“Quiet, Alexander!”

I sighed and ran a hand through my auburn hair; dirty from lack of washing. There had been no time for such luxuries lately. Food was scarce, the winter was setting in, and our people were vanishing rapidly. Besides, I had no reason to care about my appearance anymore…All hope was lost.

Soon, not a single one of us would be left, and we could do nothing about it but await our time.

Everyday, the horrors were relived as we awoke, remembered, and discovered that more were missing without a single trace. Every morning, I would step outside to see haunted faces, bewildered children, and utter confusion. And every day I would walk back to the O’Rileys and gaze at my shattered future. Mother hated it when I did so, claiming that it was unhealthy, but I didn’t care. I knew that I wouldn’t live much longer - whether from lack of food or lack of hope, I wasn’t sure.

~-*-~

Smoke. Roasting meat. I coughed and sat up, wiping the sleep from my eyes, and looked around, dazed.

I was in a tent, with a fire and my family lying asleep around me. I stood, careful not to wake them, and picked my way to the entrance of the tent. I lifted the flap, to see a beautiful sunrise and a nearly empty camp full of other such tents. I gasped aloud. We were in an Indian camp…but that wasn’t what amazed me most.

“Patrick!” I shrieked.

He looked up at me from where he sat turning meat over a fire and gave me a wry smile. I couldn’t get to him fast enough; I stumbled as I ran and dropped to the ground beside him before wrapping him in my arms. He laughed quietly as he held me close.

“You didn’t give up on me, did you Lizzie?”

A sob escaped my throat, and I began to shake with tears.

“Oh, Patrick…I thought you were dead…and, and I…”

“Shh.” He murmured, his green eyes sad. I could scarcely believe it was all happening and fervently hoped I wasn’t dreaming, as I held him as tight as I could. He still smelled the same, still held me the same. My Patrick.

“But, why?” I gasped through my tears. He sighed.

“We were starving, Lizzie. And these Indians…well, it started a while ago when my dad was out hunting. All he will tell me is that he met an Indian who saved his life, and now they are blood brothers. My guess is that it has something to do with the wound on his leg. Fortunately, the Indians are very good at healing.

“Anyway, he told the Indian about our situation. He said that his tribe could help us, but my father was worried that we would think that we were being attacked. So, they came up with a plan.

“Every night, some of the Indians from their tribe – they call themselves the Crowes – would use their sleeping darts and take some of the settlers back to their village. That way, there would be no confusion and no one could misunderstand and get hurt. So you see, I couldn’t tell you.”

I looked up at him, frowning.

“Why not?”

“You know how your mother is about Indians; she wouldn’t have gone along with it. And I thought that, well, it might be easier for you if I didn’t say anything.”

“What?!”

I let go of him, staring at him in disbelief.

“You honestly thought that would make it easier for me?” I asked incredulously. He hesitated, clearly seeing his mistake.

“Well, I, uh…I’m sorry, Lizzie. If I’d only known how much it would affect you…” he trailed off, his eyes traveling over my tattered clothes, dirty skin, unkempt hair, tear-stained face and hungry eyes. I stared back at him, taking in his red hair, freckles, strong jaw, and his beautiful green eyes – those eyes I thought I’d never see again.

“I’m so sorry, Lizzie. Can you forgive me?” he pleaded. I pretended to seriously consider his question.

“Well, Patrick…”I started, sighing. His face became pained and he reached for my hand.

“We’d better start planning the wedding.” I finished, smiling coyly. He grinned in relief and took me into his arms.

Epilogue

When General White finally returned form his voyage in 1590, the whole colony of settlers in Roanoke was gone. He found only empty houses, and the letters “C-R-O” carved into a tree, leaving one of the greatest mysteries of the state.

On March 27, 1589, Lizzie became Mrs. Elizabeth O’Riley, and a year later gave birth to a healthy young boy named John; much to the delight of her husband, Mr. Patrick O’Riley. They went on to have two more beautiful girls whom they named Olivia and Marie. They lived very long, happy lives until the year 1593 when Mrs. O’Riley died of a heat stroke. Three months later, Mr. O’Riley died of heartbreak. However, both were strong Christians, so their children loved ones were consoled with the fact that the two were happy and finally home.

John went on to marry Olivia’s friend Tracie, Marie traveled back to England, and Olivia stayed and married her childhood best friend Richard. All in all, the O’Rileys lived very good lives.