'What is going on here'

"No you don't!" Amos screamed as he shoved his booted foot into my chest, forcing me down on my back. "This is what we think of your stupid paper." The torn pieces of paper fell down on me like rain and then scattered in the wind. It was at this time that our little group caught the attention of the redcoats. The sun shone down on the approaching red-coated guards, bouncing rays of light off of the muskets they lifted proudly in their hands. A few soldiers pointed and marched towards us with the confidence that only the oppressive section of society has. I quickly grabbed at the closest shards of paper that lay strewn around my feet and shoved them in my tattered pockets. The soldiers continued their march towards us with cruel, hard faces. The boys, once cocky and full of life, now turned to face their town's captors in fear and shame. "You, boy, what is going on here?" the soldier closest to Amos stated in the thick English accent I had grown to loathe. As Amos began to stammer his answer, I could not help wonder if I would make it out of this situation alive........
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