Hey guys, Chron here with another story for the League of Story-Telling, this time with the theme of Outlaw Western. Due to my opponents dropping out, I won't be competing against anyone this week. However, that doesn't mean I didn't put a lot of time and effort into this story. Hope y'all enjoy! 

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The tumbleweeds blew in the distance.
No other sound lingered in the barren prison of the desert.

Except the beating heart of defiance.

I’ve always been here, pumping. Waiting.
I exist for a reason, and I’m never going to let that go.
This world… Seems too frail for me, but it feels like home.

Prevail. Fight, against the grain.
Never conform, never deny.
Feel the hatred, feel the pain.
Look the world right in the eye.
And fire.

He was born a slave to his emotions.
An enigma to the world around him, commonplace to himself.

The perfect instrument.
Yes, defiance will rest in this one.

He understands. He understands what lies within.
That there is more than what exists on the surface.
That the only way to survive is to
break
            the
                   rules.

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“Yer kid shows promise, Mrs. Coyfield. I’ll keep him around fer a few more days so we can wrangle us up the last lil’ stragglers. He should be home before the end of the week if that’s fine with ya. And don’t you worry yourself none, we’ll take good care of ‘im. We don’t never leave somethin’ important behind.”

I always enjoyed running the cows with Mr. Joseph. He was never rude or disrespectful to me, and understood that I was different. I wasn’t the brightest, and didn’t get the rope every time, but I gave it my all, and he saw that. I was his prodegee, as he liked to call me. I didn’t know what it meant, but it sounded nice. It all felt so… surreal. When I lived at home, Papa always stumbled into the house at midnight, broke something of importance, and rambled about the madness of men these days… I had never felt that, never known the hardship. What’s so broken about the world?

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Never too far, clutches of death,
Break away, break from the truth.
Embrace, embrace, the final breath,
Alight the world, eternal youth.
In silver flames.
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I woke up on the morning of the final day, excited to complete the job. The last few cows were finishing up their morning grass, and the horses were primed and ready for the long haul. I hoped that Mr. Joseph would want to keep me around during the low season, but I knew that wouldn’t be the case. After all, I wasn’t the most profitable asset, and he had better things to do with his time than to tutor me in the ways of being a cattle driver. But he did say I was his prodegee... Would that be enough? Papa told me that Mr. Joseph was a bad man for “not whippin’ ya for your mistakes” and “lettin’ ya off easy”... I didn’t believe Papa. I don’t think he knew who I was, or who Mr. Joseph was. I don’t think he knew what he was.

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Burdened dreams, whisked away,
Straining to survive the night.
Call the storms to end the day,
Hoping, hoping, live the fight.
Or be destroyed.
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It breathed into me like a blast of untamed fire. Papa had always told me that there were ghosts in this world… Mr. Joseph re-assured me that there was no such thing. I felt comforted by that notion, as I didn’t like what I couldn’t see. I tried grasping the concept that I would never understand everything, but it… just didn’t work for me. My brain refused to accept it. I set these thoughts aside as we reached Devil’s Crack, a fissure that Mr. Joseph had warned me many times before “will swallow a man’s soul if he comes too close to it”. Normally, I would be afraid. But this newfound fire burned in me. I was a prodegee, and prodegees don’t have fear.

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Release the curse from where it lies,
Reciprocate the pain.
Fear is how the blind man dies,
For reason is its stain.
Blood black.
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After some careful steering and a few close calls, we made it out of the pass that ran parallel to Devil’s Crack. Just 3 miles ‘til we reach the city, pay-day, and a job well done. I was unable to preserve my excitement for long, as off in the distance I heard the cry of a young calf. I hopped off my horse and ran back to Devil’s Crack, where I discovered the youngest calf in the herd hanging on to a ledge of the mighty fissure, its hind legs broken and dangling. I turned around and found that Mr. Joseph had followed me back.

“Looks like its hind legs are broke, ain’t gonna do us any good. Just shoot it, and let’s finish this drive. A broken child can’t turn us a profit.”

I pulled out my 6-shot revolver and prepared to take aim at the helpless creature, my arms shaking. I had never taken anything’s life before. The calf was staring at me, begging me to take action with pleading eyes.

“No.”

The flame in me burned bolder than my rational mind could handle. I whipped around and unloaded all 6 shots into the only man I had ever loved.

“You don’t never leave somethin’ important behind.”

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Prevail. Fight, against the grain.
Never conform, never deny.
Feel the hatred, feel the pain.
Look the world right in the eye.
And fire.
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The heart beats on.

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Thanks for reading!