Another Day in the Coal Mines

September 7, 1783
My 11th Birthday

Dear Journal,
Today is my eleventh birthday. I hope my Mom and Dad get me something. As I went down to eat my breakfast, I noticed something on the table:

To: Drake Smith

From: Bryce and Casey Smith

I wonder if it is good. Anyways, Mom and Dad drove me to the coal factory. I hate that place. It's like experiencing hell. And no one wants to go there. The CEO, Mr. Dave Lemons, assigned me with some familiar kids today. At least I got to talk with Jack and Dane and Bob. We had to bring in lots of coals to the oven, where it could be used to power up stuff. I didn't see Sarah, Jenny or Dani. Maybe they're sick or something like that, I don't know. I noticed George and Bushar constantly reaching in their pockets for a hankerchief and wiping their faces. I gotta admit, the work here is like lifting 50 pounds in an oven that is preheated to 300 degrees. That place was not cool. I only get one pound per 100 pounds of coal, which was not awesome. I tried to help Jared with his batch of coal, but some big guy beated me, especially on the part where I got burned a week ago. It felt painful. I thought I was about to die, to see God with my own two eyes. At last, it was done. The other kids felt sorry for me, I think. Finally, it was time to go. I got half a pound, even though I put 500 pounds of coal. These guys are cheaters. After my usual dinner of vegetable soup and bread, I went to my bread and fell asleep. I hope I don't get cholera. Please, God, please don't give me cholera!