I slam the door behind me, and stomp upstairs. I want nothing more to do with them, nothing to do with anything! I am sick of taking in air every day, and every single night just to wake in the morning to disappointment after disappointment. It wears me down. I slam the door to my room shut behind me, and walk to the furthest corner. I sink down to the floor, and fight tears as best as I can. Goodness gracious, I can’t take it anymore.
A single tear slides down my cheek, and I move to wipe it off. Something inside me stops my hand. The tear slithers its way down, and then drips off my face, to only burst on the ground. Life is much like a tear drop. It starts, and there are so many bends, and twists, then it all plummets to an end.My life is not even worth wiping off. Much like that tear. I stand up, gripping the wall. I look out the window, seeing the bus has left my neighborhood, I go change. I put on my jacket, that I had gotten from my dad. It was army camo’d up, with dark shades of green and white, like snow. I put on my boots, and get my gun out of my parents closet. By the time they find me, maybe it would have all withered away. With my hunting bag over my shoulder, I stomp out the door. I have some water, some dried foods, and a few basic survival things in my bag, incase I got lost in the woods for a while.
My jeans are stained dark, due to all the mud and dirt that becomes my home during november. I walk to the front door, and open it. My neighbors are all at work, as well as my parents. I hold up my hand to block out the sun. It is a gloomy day. Rays of sunlight struggle to break through the thick storm clouds. It is supposed to rain soon, but I don’t care. If I get my way, I won’t be alive long enough to care.
I stomp up the hill, and down the street. The woods line is not far away. I keep walking. I begin to count my steps softly to myself, “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.”
My face carries a grim look on it, for I am very grim. When I make it into the news, I only can hope that they get worse than what they gave me. I keep rage close to my heart, as it is my best friend. Now, she (rage) has offered me a way out. I keep moving, seemingly faster and faster. “ forty eight, forty nine, fifty…” I pause at the wood line. I look behind me. This had been my home for five years now, and soon, it would be my grave sight. I look into the woods. I know my path, I use it often, as I stalk animals, or go to find peace for myself. Walking, about for ten minutes, you can find a clearing, with a massive hickory tree in the middle. From there, it’s an old dried up tributary, follow that to the river, and then follow the river to another tributary, then walk up that one, all the way to the peak of the mountain. I think it’s a couple thousand feet above sea level. Goats and wild cows live up there. It’s an excellent game hunting area. Best part is, you can see to the ends of the earth practically.
I take my first step into the path. My foot grinds up on the sand, and I listen to the crunch. I take a second and third, and on, and on, and on. I break out into a jog. I come over a small log, and jump. I see a bend in the path ahead of me. This part is overgrown, because hardly anybody comes through here. Plus, there’s a three foot drop. Even the people with ATV’s dont cross this point. If I kill anything back here, which I have on many occasions, I have to haul it back, on my own. I round the bend, and drop down the ledge.
I see fresh cougar tracks, and by fresh, I mean within the hour. I am now being cautious. Just a few weeks ago, a two hundred pound man was attacked by one, and killed. I raise my gun. Ironically, its the same weapon I plan to take my life with. I keep moving. Though I want to end it all, I’d rather go out quick, and the cougar isn’t quick. My foot sinks into some sand. I’m close to the river. This river has killed people before. My friend in fourth grade fell in here. He was found eighteen days later, half starved, and dehydrated. He’d been lucky to survive the river’s fury.
I kept on the upper side of the bank. It was further away from the fast moving water, and high enough to keep dry when the water’s running fast. I walk, and walk, and walk. It feels like hours have gone by. The pitter patter of rain echoes across the mountains, and rings in my ears. In a few minutes, the river will be flowing so fast, it will strip the bank of debris, and splash up at me. I’ve only been near the river during a storm one time, and it’s the scariest thing that had ever happened to me. I keep moving, faster, and my eyes are peeled. First thing I trip on, will send me to a bad death. I keep moving, picking up speed. I feel a drop of rain on the back of my hand, and I look up. One hits my forehead. I begin to sprint. I can see the tributary, and it’s not too far. The rain begins to come, and all hell broke loose. Lightning struck a tree somewhere near me. I ducked, and listened to it crash. It was behind me. I go back to running. Almost there I think to myself. I jump, landing safely on the soft dirt of the tributary. I turn around, and see the I hear something splash in the water. I look at the river, and see a cougar splashing by. I feel bad for the critter, because It’s got shock by now from the coldness, and It’s got a lot of rocks to hit before it’ll go out cold.
I climb up the summit of the mountain. I pull out my compass, and look at my heading. The lightning shock must have done something, because it wasn’t pointing north. It was pointing southeast, towards the river. I put it up, and continued to climb. Rocks tumbled down, and rain soaked my. My lucky jacket wasn’t any luck. That’s why I wore it, to prove a point. I looked into the sky, as thunder screeched from the clouds. I keep on climbing. Soon, I reach the mouth of my cave. Me and my Dad had found it not to long ago, and made it our head of hunting operations. I go inside. There are sleeping bags, and basic supplies. I use up the rest of the firewood, and start a fire. It becomes deathly cold. The cave won’t allow more air in, and with the fire warming up the cave, It will be short business of the night.
I begin to think. How does killing myself fix them? I mean, it ends all my struggles, but not their jack-assiness. If I walk home now, and take a shower, and brush my teeth, and clean my gun, it would look like nothing happened…
But that doesn’t fix my problem! I begin to cry. It’s not like guys to be so emotional, but give me a break, my life is on the line. I think, Where does death get me?
The common sense voice in my head says, :Dead, it gets you dead, quiet simple. I shut it up. Right now I don’t want reason. I want vengeance. It over rides my head. What does suicide, SUICIDE get you? It wouldn’t be too bad if Miley Cyrus killed herself, she’s only wasting oxygen. But YOU, who own’s ducks, and sheep, and hunts, and actually benefits society, what does it do to you? I turn to face a wall. I see a hand print I had made. It was a few years ago. If all I have to leave behind, for all the universe to know me as, was a handprint in some rock, I wasn’t gonna have it. I stood up. The rain storm looked to be coming down softer, just a tad, and I figured that if I was quick, I could be back in an hour or so. Then I’d beat my parents home, and polish my gun. I held the gun in my hand. It was a 1964 sks. It had an new stock on it, and me and my dad had gotten it to take AR-15 rounds. It was a sick looking gun.
Whenever someone comes over, my dad tells me to get the gun, so he can show off what we had done. It is a great gun. I look at the engravement my dad had put in the stock. Keep straight, and if you loose the path, Life will clear you a new one… -Dad.
I just have to go back. It was apparent to me that it wasn’t time to die, but to live, and if they keep up their dickieness, I make my own way to end it.
I look out of the mouth of the cave, and witness a rare event. An Eagle nest, sitting on the top of a tall tree. I walk out the mouth of the cave. I make my way down the mountain, stumbling over loose rocks, and sliding over slippery spots. I pull out my knife, maybe it’ll catch the ground, and I won’t fall too far.
I keep moving, the trail down feels shorter, and I move to the river bed. It isn’t dry anymore, but I can see where a beaver is going to be building a dam. Piles of sticks lay around everywhere, and I grab a stick. The water isn’t too deep. It may come mid way up my shin’s. I step in. The cold hits me, and I sincerely regret coming here now, out of all times.
I make my way down the mountain. Soon, the river is within eyesight again. I snap a stick under the current. I feel it, and I jump. When I see it bobbing up, and flowing around the bend, I cool down.
Now at the bank, I can relax a little more. The sound of booming echoes overhead, as lightning strikes just on the other side of the river. I feel it in my feet. The rubber wasn’t enough to ground all of the shock. My mind goes blank for a second, then comes back to me. I look ahead. There is a tree blocking my path. I work my way along the highest point of the bank, and grab hold of the tree. I hoist myself onto the top, and begin to reposition my feet, to slide off. My boots loose grip, and destroy the bark, and I slide. The branches I held onto snap, and in the blink of an eye, I feel the cold of the river all over me.
I hit something, and go under. My boot gets caught on something, but then whatever it was on breaks, and I rise to the surface. My bag is weighing me down, and the gun is stabbing my heel. I gasp for air, and try to hold myself up. I grab a rock, but then something sucks me under. I can’t tell if I’m dead or in shock. My mind slows down. A sudden warmth hits me, and the sucking goes away. I rise to the surface, and grab hold of a nearby tree. I look up, and the rain isn’t anywhere. The storm is gone, and it’s a very sunny day. I see a meadow right next to me, I hoist myself onto the shore. I look back at the river. It is clear, and I can see fish buzzing around in the deeper areas. I look around me, and nothing is familiar.
I get up and start walking. I see something in the sky. The sun blocks it out, and I squint. I can’t see what it is. It looks like a bird, but as it appears to come closer, it forms into a much more different shape.
“Hello? Are you okay?” the figure asks. I look away from the sun, as I don’t have a wish to go blind.
“Hello, are you…”
I look at the figure with awe, as it lands on the ground. It’s features are like a human, but it has a tail, wings, and a ‘horn’. The voice is feminine and almost sweet, in a older english tone.
“I saw the flash, are you okay?” she asks.
I look down at my hand. It was cut. I look around me, checking myself. I’m alive.
“ Is this heaven?” I ask.
“Hardly, its Equestria,” She giggles out.
I look around, and back at her. “You mean, I’m not dead?”
“Why should you be?” she asks.
“I don’t know? What are you? WHO are you?” I rapidly say.
“I’m Princess Luna, Alicorn of the moon. Who are you, and what are you?” she asks in a sarcastic tone.
“I’m Claude…” I shouldn’t give my real name, ‘Blast’. What’s a cool last name? “Claude Heartwatch.”
“Wow, you sound like royalty more than I do. You still haven’t answered what you are,” she sounds playful. From what I can guess, she’s eighteen, I’m sixteen, almost seventeen. I see more things with wings, and they seem to have armor and weapons. I feel my back for my gun. I point it at her.
She gets a curious look on her face.
“GET ON THE GROUND NOW!” I shout.
“What?” she asks.
The flying armored and armed creatures land, and charge me. I turn around and run. One of them tackles me to the ground. I hit him over the head, and he rolls off me. I stand up, and hold my gun up. A spear cuts my rib, and I jerk around to the ground. ‘ BANG’! I pulled the trigger. One of them grabbed their shoulder, and fell to the ground, shouting. Two more kept at me. I picked up the spear, and break it in half. One comes at me, and I hit him in the face, the other on my left, I whack him with the spear. He falls on the ground, holding his hip.
The girl is screaming. I turn around and run. Suddenly, a blue light surrounds me, and a burning sensation covers every part of my body.
“I said not to attack!” she shouts at the men. She then came and picked up the one whom I shot up. blueish blood gushes out of the wound. She looks at me, and seeing my cut, and my blood, RED, asks, “What did you say you were?”
“I am human.”
“Well, I want you to clean up, and to apologise to my guards. As they will apologise to you.”
She lifts off on her wings, and begins to fly off, with the other ones. I begin to walk in the direction they’re going, but when one one of them sees I can’t fly, he turns around, and comes and helps me. I do my best to not discomfort him more than I already have, and I even find out his name, Petrofski.
