Where my story takes shape

October 21, 2009


Filed under: Uncategorized — Mrs. Smith @ 7:44 pm

“Every man must do two things alone;
he must do his own believing and his own dying.”
Martin Luther


Alden returned in the early hours of the morning, when the sky is tan and the sunrise isn’t quite over the horizon. He put his horse in the barn, and when he was midway between that and us, the Pennington brothers met him in the lawn. They told him I was crazy. At least Ashley used that word. Alden made no attempt at conversation, he let Bruce and Ash tell him all they learned about me, and then he made his way to the apartment. I went away from the window and to my favorite corner, the one where I could see all five doors and all places that the cowboys sat. Alden came in and they all stood. Alden looked like a wreck. He looked like he had just been on a pilgrimage to hell and back. He sought for me then came over.

“I got him,” Alden said, displaced, only searching for my reaction, he continued, “Several times. Point blank,” he searched my face for a flinch or an eye dash, “Then, before I could have realized I just killed a boy, he got up and ran away. I didn’t chase him,” He waited further for my reaction, then said, with a booming voice, “Why aren’t you shocked?”

I had to show him. And myself. Cody Drake’s pistol lay in its holster on the coffee table. I darted and grabbed it before Cody Drake could realize what I had just done.

“What’re you doing?!” They all yelled in their own way. I took the gun out, and searched for the safety, unlocked the it, put the gun to my ribs, said the tiniest prayer, and shot. Monroe and Cody Drake were practically on top of me by this time. But the deed was done.

I screamed and screamed. They all climbed all over each other like ants on a hill. Ash screamed commands “Get a towel!” “Mr. Berry, call 911!” “Put pressure to the wound!” “Dad, what did you say to her?!” “Can we get her to Afton in time!”

My body shook blue. It shook hot red. My eyes fell into the back of my head, and my ribs felt like they were rising and crashing like the ocean waves. All the blood in my body seemed to have stopped dead in its flow. Monroe grabbed me, wrapped his whole body around me, and had a towel pushed into the wound. I felt my intestines wiggle from within me. Wes, Marco, and Pete all cursed loud, indecently, and unceasingly.


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