Chapter Text
I was running, running fast like maybe if I just ran a lil' faster, maybe the wind would catch me an' take me farther than my bloodied feet could ever take me. I know I shouldn't still be runnin' so close to dark, but it's been days now, and I just need a bit farther. Just need to be far enough to not let 'em see my face.
My body's achin' somethin' fierce, though I ain't sure I remember what it feels like not to hurt, my eyes stingin', my feet bleedin' from runnin' for days with no shoes, and my vision is gettin' blurry in a way that's way too familiar. I yell as my legs give out beneath me, my ears ringing as I try to stop my fall, but the most I do is keep my head out of the dirt.
"Run until you can't no more," that's what he always said. Shame he couldn't at least put somethin' on the end there, at least make it sound like I wasn't some un-christened bastard he took in to have help to his forge. Hell, him just givin' me that advice is the best thing he ever did me.
One of the only two things he ever gave me, burns and advice, usually in that order. Most the advice was worthless. The burns stuck around. At least he's burnin' now... burnin' in hell, that is. I reached up without thinkin', fingers brushin' the ruined skin over my eye, almost fully scarred shut.
I know I can barely walk now, prolly can't even stand, but I doubt just layin' in the road'll do me any good. I roll onto my back, starin' at the sunset above me. The yellows and pinks of the last sun rays blurring with the dark blues of the night creeping in.
Why can't people blend that pretty?
I've never seen people so different, as different as the pinks and blues at nighttime ever get along. It's tragic, really is. Reckon there's gotta be somebody out there don't mind folks bein' different. Ain't met 'em yet, though.
As I stare at the last streaks of pink in the sky, I can tell that I've gotten back at least a little strength. Don't hurt as bad to breathe and my legs can at least move again. I manage to sit myself up, and I don't hurl up what little I've eaten, which is nice.
I just sit there a minute, lettin' myself pick up the pieces of myself all over. Tryin' to bend my legs up felt like somebody shankin' my insides, but it's better than gettin' run over by a buggy, or worse... taken back.
I manage to get on my hands and knees, the sand feeling nice between my fingers as I crawl to the brush beside the road. The only thing that really matters is gettin' somewhere real to stay, not just out in the open. If I'm gonna make a name for myself here... wherever "here" is, I wanna do it right.
No more stealin' food or sleepin' outside, I wanna be someone people can look up to, not just a kid all alone. I don't wanna be some slum outside on the road, begging for money, that's not my dream. I ain't gonna be "boy" no more. Ain't gonna be "bastard" neither. Folks can call me what they please, but one day they're gonna know who I am.
Even with where I am now, I've heard stories of those who made it big from nothing. So right now, I'ma get up and start a new story now, and one day I'll get to tell it while sittin' in a nice warm house where all those years in that forge can never touch me.
I get ahold of some of the brush by the side of the road and try to stand. The whole world's spinin' but at least I'm on my feet. I look behind me at the large home and barn. I've never seen a house that big back home, I bet some big shot lives there, like a horse breeder or a rancher. Even through the fuzz, I can see light coming from inside.
Maybe this is the break I've been waitin' for. I could ask to work for him for a place to stay, and I bet he'd like free labor. I've always been good with horses too, though that might just be 'cause I always ran away to sleep in the stables or play with the horses. Either way, it's somethin'.
Ranching has always been somethin' all those big shots do, maybe if I work there, I can be somethin' big one day? I take shaky steps to the house's front door. Every step stings and burns as all the quickly closed cuts on my feet reopen, but I keep walkin'.
I'm sure I can make some sort of deal, and it's dark enough out to hide how much my face is messed up. I at least hope he won't see my face in the mornin' and call the pastor, or worse, grab his gun. But I bet I could sweet talk myself outa that, I've done it before.
My strides grow bigger as I grow confident, a smile on my face as I touch the porch steps. I make it to the door, knocking twice before waiting. I make sure to use my hair to cover my face, so even if the darkness don't hide me, at least this will.
The door opens to a tall white man before me. I had seen him in the papers before, though I got no idea what they were about. Any shot I had died right then. I don't know all men like him, but the few I did couldn't care less if every person like me just died one day. Ain't a comforting thought.
"Hello sir..." was all I could stutter out, and honestly, and I know I sound pathetic. "What's your name, boy?" I look down at the porch floor, puddles of blood pooling around my feet. "Why, I... I ain't got none, sir, on account of my mama passed on before she could give me one." When I looked up at him, his face softened as he looked like he might've felt bad for me.
I don't want his pity for just tellin' the truth but if it gets me a place to stay, well I'll pull those strings. For a second, he just stared at me like I'd started speakin' another language, then he blinked, all confused like. The silence was unbearable, but almost everybody does it after hearin' such an absurd thing.
"...I'm... real damn sorry to hear that, boy. There anythin' I can do for ya?" I look more up at him, but still keepin' my head lowered some. "I'll work for ya... fer a place to sleep in your barn an' a hot meal... I can't read nor even write neither but... I'm mighty good with horses... an' I can mend that fallen fence post I saw on my way in."
"Sounds fair enough... almost too fair. You runnin' from somebody, boy?" My eyes widen with shock, an' maybe a little fear; thank God I know he can't see it. What can I even tell him?
That I'm runnin' from a dead man cause I'm finally free? That I'm runnin' from the town I grew up in cause nobody wants a piece in the slander that's always followed from keepin' me around? Cause both are the truth, no matter how crazy.
"No- no, no sir... I just... din't have the best reputation back home, is all. People ain't big fans a those who ain't pretty..." His smile stuttered a little bit before he gave me a sigh. "Go on to the barn, boy and I'll have onea my kids getcha somethin' to eat. But I'll be checkin' tomorrow to see if you really do be livin' up to those words."
I gave him a nod, then nodded a few more times as my hands fidgeted with the sewn line on my shirt before heading out to the barn, not even feeling the pain in my body as it's muffled by the pure excitement at havin' a place to go after so long. My already fast walkin' quickened to a run as I couldn't help myself despite it all.
I quickly made it to the barn, catching my breath against the barn door. I haven't been this happy since the last time I saw Princess... she was such a pretty horse, shame I couldn't bring her along. I walked in a little further, sittin' down by the water trough to finish taking a breath.
The sound of barn animals reminded me of home; of the good things I had goin' for me. The neighbors' cows, Mr. Boone's stable where Princess and all the other horses stayed... it felt safe in a way I guess other folks took for granted. I couldn't help but laugh a little as I felt a foal behind me nudgin' at me, tryin' to see what I'm about.
And that's when I saw him, a handsome boy, about my age holding a lantern and a bowl of stew. The first thing I noticed weren't his eyes nor his hair. It was that he wasn't starin'. Most folks stare. He just held out the bowl like there weren't nothin' unusual about me at all.
Though, when I did take a look at him, he looked pretty smart, but maybe it's just the big, round glasses he's got on, framin' big blue eyes and restin' upon elfish ears like that of a creature from a fairy tale. He had that look about him, like if you started talkin', he'd actually listen.
And I think I'm gonna be havin' a great time here, long as he keeps comin' back.