My dreams were fevered by regret during the time I fled from Nida.
In the dark I relived the helpless rage that set me after the claim-jumpers who followed me to search my tent.
Those men said I had no right to stay in their new American state.
They threatened to bring me to the local authorities to hang for some invented crime, their word against mine.
I broke away and circled back through the forest to kill them.
But they saw me coming and overpowered me.
I spat at them, gave them ideas by telling them what I'd have done to each of them if only I'd managed to catch them alone.
And they made me regret that.
With my last breath I cursed them, promising them that what they'd stolen from me would only bring them sorrow and torment.